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PICTURED 

KNOWLEDGE 

Visual Instruction Practically Applied 
for the Home and School 


VOL. I 


Editor-In-Chief 
CALVIN N. KENDALL 

Commissioner of Education of the State of New Jersey 


Associate Editor 
MRS. ELEANOR ATKINSON 

Author of “The How and Why Library” “Greyfriars Bobby” “Johnny 

Applcseed” “The Boyhood of Lincoln” 


Director of Visual Instruction 
A. W. ABRAMS 

Chief, Division of Visual Instruction, Department of 
Education of the State of New York 


Managing Editor 
FRANCIS B. ATKINSON 


> Art Editor 

SEYMOUR JONES 

-> o o 

* o > 


COMPTON-JOHNSON CO 
CHICAGO 








PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Copyright, 1916, by F. E. Compton & Company 
Copyright, 1917, by F. E. Compton & Company 



JUL 27 !9!7 



©Cl A 470486 



t 






EDITORS AND CONTRIBUTORS 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


Editor-in-Chief 

CALVIN N. KENDALL, A. M., Litt. D., LL. D. 
Commissioner of Education of the State of New Jersey 

Associate Editor 

MRS. ELEANOR ATKINSON 

Author of “The How and Why Library,” “Greyfriars Bobby,” 
“Johnny Appleseed,” “The Boyhood of Lincoln” 

Director of Visual Instruction 

ALFRED W. ABRAMS, Ph. B. 

Chief, Division of Visual Instruction, Department of Education 

of the State of New York 

Managing Editor 

FRANCIS B. ATKINSON 

Art Editor 

SEYMOUR JONES 


SPECIAL CONTRIBUTORS 

FRANK M. McMURRY, Fh. D. 

Joint Author of Tarr and McMurry’s “Common School Geographies,” “Method of 
tne Recitation;” Author, “Elementary School Standards” 

DR. DAVID STARR JORDAN, M. S., Ph. D., M. D., LL. D. 

Chancellor Emeritus of Leland Stanford, Jr., University 

• * ;• ,1 


III 


I 




WINFIELD SCOTT HALL, M. D., Pli. D. 

Head of Department of Physiology, Northwestern University 


JEANNETTE WINTER HALL 

Special Teacher in Physiology, Berwyn, Ill., and Joint Author with Dr. Hall 

of a series of School Physiologies 


JOHN BURROUGHS, Litt. D. 


Author of “Wake Robin,” “Birds and Poets,” “Locusts and Wild Honey,” 
“Camping and Tramping with Roosevelt,” etc. 


F. D. COBURN, M. A., LL. D. 

Secretary, Kansas Department of Agriculture; formerly President Kansas State 
Agricultural College Board of Regents; Chief of Department of 

Live Stock, St. Louis Exposition 


HENR"¥ JACKSON WATERS, LL. D. 

President, State Agricultural College of Manhattan, Kansas; 
Author “Essentials of Agriculture” 


GIFFORD PINCHOT 

Professor of Forestry, Yale University; Chairman National Conservation 
Commission; President National Conservation Association 


LUCY WHEELOCK 

Founder and Head of Wheelock Kindergarten Training School; Ex-President, 
International Kindergarten Union, Boston, Mass. 


JESSIE H. BANCROFT 

Assistant Director, Physical Training, Public Schools, Greater New York 


LINA BEARD 

Author and Illustrator, American Girls’ Handy Book; What a Girl Can Make and Do; 

Little Folks’ Handy Book, etc. 

WALTER I. HAMILTON 
Massachusetts State Board of Education, Boston 


DR. LUTHER H. GULICK 

Educator and Author; President, Camp Fire Girls; formerly Director of Physical 
Training, Public Schools of New York City; Ex-President National 
Playground Association; Director, Department Child 
Hygiene, Russell Sage Foundation, etc. 


IV 


JAMES J. WEST 

Chief Scout Executive, Boy Scouts of America 


ANNA BOTSFORD COMSTOCK 

Assistant Professor, Nature Study, Cornell University; Lecturer, Leland Stanford, 
Jr., University Extension Work; Author of “The Pet Book,” 

“The Ways of the Six Footed,” “How to Keep Bees,” etc. 

HELEN KINNE 

Head, Department of Domestic Science, Teachers’ College, Columbia University 


EDWIN L. TAYLOR 

Supervisor of Manual Training, State Normal School, Plattsburgh, N. Y. 


BERTHA L. SWOPE 

Director of Physical Training, East Cleveland Public Schools, Cleveland, Ohio 


ROYAL B. FARNUM 

Inspector of Drawing and Art, State Department of Education, Albany, N. Y. 


O. J. KERN 

Division of Agricultural Education, University of California 


RALPH DAVOL 

Author of “American Pageantry” 


DR. S. JOSEPHINE BAKER 

Director, Bureau of Child Hygiene, Department of Health, New York City 


DR. CHARLES F. BOLDUAN 

Director, Bureau of Public Health Education, Department of Health, 

New York City 


GEORGE E. JOHNSON 

Member of International Congress of School Hygiene; Author, “Education by 
Plays and Games;” Superintendent, Pittsburg Playground Association, 
1907-1913; Head of Department of Play and Recreation, 

New York School of Philanthropy 


THOMAS J. MacCORMACK 
Principal, Township High School, La Salle, Ill. 

V 


/ 

GEORGE A. MIRICK 

Assistant Commissioner of Education of State of New Jersey 


MRS. FREDERIC SCHOFF 
President Parent-Teacher Association 

DR. B. K. WILBUR 

of H. O. Wilbur & Sons, Chocolate Manufacturers 


GUTZON BORGLUM 
Eminent American Sculptor 


A. A. HOPKINS 

Associate Editor, Scientific American 


JOSEPH LEE 

President, Playground Association of America 


ELLA V. DOBBS 

Department cf Manual Arts University of Missouri 


RALPH ADAMS CRAM, Litt. D. 

Consulting Architect, Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York City; 

Author and Lecturer 


LAWRENCE MARTIN, A. M., Ph. D. 

Associate Professor of Geology, University of Wisconsin; Member, American 

Geographical Society Expedition to Alaska 


GENERAL LEONARD WOOD, U. S. A. 

Military Governor of Cuba 1899-1902; Commander Philippine Division U. S. A. 

1900-1908; Chief of Staff U. S. A., 1910-1914. 


VI 


ii ' i nx trm !^ »n< r rni 



VII 






















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































■ ii ■ tt ■ ii w i i mi ii ■ ii ■ m ii' n i i n tirrirr r r r v w n ■ n ■ i t ■ 1 1 ■ 11 m 1 1 1 it ■ rr ■ mu m ■ n nf ri r» lr w mn i n ■ ii ■ 1 1 ■ v m n ■ ii ■ i n n ■ m n ■ n» urii'i rrg» m m 11« c i n«'m i nm aa mmU l ITUmH ig i m iallii mm 11 fc 


El 



Henry J. Waters, LL.D. 
Bertha L. Swope 
George E. Johnson 


Anna B. Comstock 
David Starr Jordan 
Jessie H. Bancroft 


F. D. Coburn, LL.D. 
Ella V. Dobbs 
Royal B. Farnum 


VIII 


■ lmiiiiiiiiiiBiiBimniiiiiiiMmiillJlllllllliliminilO'iU'liilllgliiiiiiniiiiiriiiiiiiiiiinrrunririiiiiiiriri n ■ n ■ n win u rn i nn mm mi u it i iu m ■ i : ■ un i mi ni ' .n [T n r M iii u Tr i n n r mTiiiiii iii ilium i 1 



















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































Charles F. Bolduan 
Helen Kinne 
Thomas J. McCormack 


Dr. Winfield Scott 
Hall, Ph.D. 
Gifford Pinchot 
T. R. Wildman 


GUTZON Borglum 
Lucy Wheelock 
Joseph Lee 


IX 


























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































■ t i i u ■ n rn 1 ii ■ i i ■ ii ■ ii ■ i i ■ i i ■ i i 1 u in ■ n ■ ii ■ i) ■ in mittmii* ii ■ ii ■ ii ■ ii ■ ii ■ ii ■ ii ■ ii«ii n ir iia nR iLB :i ■ 11 n n» um ■»■ ■»■'» "Tnnr a j L8.il * ,.i u u a ii a m i i 11; i hi n ■ n ■ n ■ n ■ u i 






Jeannette W. Hall 
James J. West 
Wilson L. Gill 


Dr. Luther H. Gulick 
John Burroughs 
O. J. Kern 


Lina Beard 
George A. Miricl 
Ralph Davol 




X 































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































Ralph Adams Cram 
Frank M. McMurry 
General Leonard Wood 


Dr. S. Josephine Baker 
A. A. Hopkins 
Edwin L. Taylor 


Walter I. Hamilton 
Mrs. Frederic Schoff 
Lawrence M. Martin 


f r&j fill,/., 

' /' 




XI 






































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































can now travel in any land, in any . 
season, or among any tribe or 
race, snugly ensconced, with a few 
illustrated books, by our own fire¬ 
place. The limit and range of 
what pictures can do is steadily 
increasing. One can know many 
of the wonders of the vast new world of the micro¬ 
scope and telescope without ever looking through an 
eye glass. It would be a curious question for the 
imaginative mind to work out how far an education 
based upon a wise selection and proper gradation of 
pictures might today be carried without the ability 
to read. If all written or printed records of the 
present time should be lost it is surprising to reflect 
how much of what makes life interesting could be 
reproduced by pictures alone. Seeing is not only 
believing, but understanding, and a single judicious 
picture or blackboard drawing often tells in a 
moment what it would take paragraphs to describe, 
if indeed words could ever give it at all. 

G. Stanley Hall 



xii 



What Is “Pictured Knowledge?” 


HE names of the editors and contributors are sufficient 
evidence of the importance of this work, and a mere 
glance through its pages will show that it marks a dis¬ 
tinct development in educational methods. 

The Parent’s Problem 

No parent needs to be told that children are con¬ 
stantly asking questions about things in their school 
work that are not plain to them. Yet parents find it difficult to explain 
these things from the child’s standpoint. 

Unless these questions are answered, the child’s naturally keen interest 
in the things worth knowing is destroyed. He not only makes little 
progress in school, but school becomes distasteful, and statistics show that 
a large percentage of children drop out altogether. They enter the 
struggle of life under the great handicap of an insufficient education, and 
they have neither the taste nor the ability for the mental application 
which is more and more requisite to success in this age of specialization. 

Making School Work Attractive 

In view of these facts not only educators but business men everywhere 
have felt that something should be done to capture the child’s interest and 
to make the school work more attractive and more profitable. 

The old idea of education, as a prominent educator has said, was simply 
to “fill the child’s mind full of an enormous mass of unrelated facts.” 
Many people, both inside and outside the school, also labored under the 
delusion about “mental discipline.” “I don’t care what ye tache thim,” 
says Mr. Dooley, “so long as ’tis onpleasant to thim!” recalling a similar 
idea in the old school of medicine that no prescription could accomplish 
the best results “onless it choked ye goin’ down!” 

The New Idea in Education 

The new idea in education is that it shall consist of the essential, useful 
things logically related, and so presented as to be attractive to the child, 
to make him think and to keep his curiosity alive. Not only is curiosity 
the appetite of the mind, but without it there is inevitable indigestion. 
Teaching which does not keep the child curious and interested leaves a 
bad taste in the mouth; he comes to have an indifference, or a positive 
dislike, for school and everything connected with it. 

It is the new idea of education that is carried out in Pictured 
Knowledge. The important things in each subject have been selected, 
and by the use of visual instruction and the art of the story-teller a plan 
has been developed which makes school work more interesting and more 
profitable than either the teachers or the text books are able to make it 
without such aid. 



XTTI 




Pictures as Realities 

“Whenever,” says Dr. Stanley Hall, “we can substitute a picture for 
mere words, the concrete for the abstract, we are doing a real work ol 
mental economy of great value in this age of strain and fag of brain and 
nerve.” 

Dr. Martin’s description of the reproduction of Moran’s “Chasm of 
the Colorado” in the article on the national parks, is a striking example 
of this use of pictures as substitutes for realities for those who can not 
visit the scene, and it will serve as a most valuable guide to observation 
and a vivid memory for those who can. Such a combination of pictorial 
illustration, with graphic description, will be found a characteristic of the 
work throughout, and, particularly to the vivid imagination of a child, 
it constitutes an experience rather than a description. 

Use of Imagery by the Great Teacher 

Practically all the talks of the Great Teacher were pictorial; they were 
cither suggested by concrete things or were illustrated by word pictures. 
To the fishermen He illustrated the nature of His mission by the nets 
they were then casting into the sea. The parables are great moral truths 
in the form of living pictures presented to the mind. The abstract idea 
of the religious conversion of the world was translated into picture 
language: “Follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” 

No less notable is the fact that the great poets,—Homer, Virgil, Dante, 
Goethe, Shakespeare,—are given rank largely according to their pictorial 
imagination, their skill in composition, the vividness of their imagery. 

Education as “Image Growth” 

While in one sense Visual Instruction is a phase of education, it in 
reality embraces almost the whole of the educational process when prop¬ 
erly combined with words. So widely has this truth come to be recog¬ 
nized that education has been defined as “image growth.” 

In our stories of Geography—“Seeing the World and Its Peoples”— 
picture travel becomes almost as real to the child as actual travel. 

It is because Pictured Knowledge deals with the same subjects as the 
text books, but in a way to give life and purpose to them, that its function 
is so important. Dr. Weiner, of Harvard, who made it a practice to 
answer his boy’s questions and then feed him with suggestions for more 
questions in the family conversations and in walks along the roads and 
in the woods, accomplished what seemed remarkable results, but he points 
out that similar results can be accomplished by other parents who will 
do a similar thing. 

The Wonderful Six Years 

One of the most thoughtful writers on education, and himself one of 
the greatest of teachers, Colonel Parker, calls attention to the fact that a 
child masters more of the school subjects, including the difficult subject 
of Language, during the first six years of his life—that is to say, before 
he goes to school at all—than he ever does in twice that time after his 
school life has begun. This is because he is learning with his eyes and 
because during that period his mother is his teacher. In the frequent 
criticism of our public schools the assumption is made that the trouble is 
with the schools themselves; but the chief difficulty is that so many 

XIV 


parents lose educational connection with their children after they start 
to school. W hat parents should do is to keep up interest in the education 
of theii children and talk with them on the various topics that come up 
in the school branches. Talk with them not alone about the marks they 
get, but more, and principally, about the subjects to which the school 
texts relate. They are the most worth while as well as the most interest- 
ing subjects of conversation in the world, if you will only make them so. 

The Parent and the Text Book 

By clothing the dry bones of the text book with living flesh and blood, 
by supplying, in pictures and in graphic words, life, color and motion to 
these catalogs of facts which to the child seem too dry, dreary, dead and 
pedantic, Pictured Knowledge restores the connection between educa¬ 
tion and the home by a process at once easy, natural and delightful. 

Every mother knows from her experience with her own children that 
if this has really been accomplished in these pages her children are cer¬ 
tain to do better work and to advance much further and faster than they 
otherwise would. 

How Difficult Subjects Are Made Plain 

J ust to illustrate how the plan has been worked out let us take one of 
the most confusing and difficult subjects with which children have to 
deal in the study of Geography—what in scientific language is called 
Meteorology, the science of the weather. The mystery of the weather 
has appealed to men in all ages, and the use of the neuter pronoun in 
common reference to the weather—“It’s going to rain/’ “It’s growing 
cold,” is an expression of the general lack of knowledge of the real causes 
of weather phenomena. Not knowing these causes, people simply called 
them “It.” 

Yet by means of the title illustration alone, in this article, is given, in 
a way that makes the subject as attractive as the puzzle page in the child’s 
story paper, not only the history of men’s ideas about the weather, but 
the most fundamental facts in the science of the subject and the various 
scientific instruments employed in weather prediction—the rain and thun¬ 
der gods of the ancients, the fact that all winds are cyclonic, how the 
weather man “sees with a hundred eyes” and makes up his predictions, 
and so on. 

Franklin’s discovery of the principle of wind and weather movement is 
the most important in the whole history of the science, and the text books 
contain many pages of dry diagrams and drier analysis to explain it. 
Yet, see how simply the whole idea is summed up in the picture of the 
little wind sprites blowing in a circle, and the accompanying comparison 
in the text of the wind movement to “happy children dancing.” 

A Book for All Ages 

We all studied weather in school and memorized phrases about the 
trade winds, which we neither understood nor remembered, simply 
because the subject was not made plain and interesting. Even the high 
school boy who is plodding through his “meteorology”—not to speak of 
the average adult—will get more information about the weather and the 
modern method of weather prediction in this short article than he has 
acquired in all his previous reading or study on the subject. 


XV 


So with the whole range of school subjects—Nature Study in the story 
of the bees and the “bee line/’ the ants, the coffer fish with his “Hal¬ 
lowe’en face,” the arab and “the boarder who lives on the roof,” and 
other and wonderful and interesting things in the plant and animal 
world; Geography in the travel stories of the world and its peoples, the 
great industries, the great inventions, Astronomy, Civics, as represented 
in the articles on the navy and the postoffice; Biography in “The World 
Helpers.” 

In short Pictured Knowledge is quite as much a work for adults as 
for children. It deals with just those topics of permanent and universal 
interest which cultivated people are supposed to know and which it is 
always embarrassing not to know. 

Acknowledgments 

In addition to the illustrations by our own artists and photographs 
specially taken for the work, we wish to make grateful acknowledgment 
of the following sources: 

The Berlin Photograph Co., Soule Art Co., Elson Art Co., Turner Art 
Co. and Taber-Prang Art Co.; the Mensell Art Company, London ; Brown 
Brothers, Harris & Ewing, Paul Thompson, Putnam & Valentine, W. M. 
VanderWeyde, Underwood & Underwood, Eastman Kodak Company, 
Detroit Publishing Company, Curtis & Miller, F. S. Peabody, Keystone 
View Company, Koch Brothers; The Art Institute of Chicago, The Amer¬ 
ican Museum of Natural History and The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 
New York City; The Corcoran Art Gallery, Baltimore, The New York- 
State Museum and The Department of Forestry of New York; The U. S. 
Departments of Agriculture, Forestry, National Parks, Fisheries and the 
Geological Survey; Atlas-Portland Cement Co., Armour & Co., Grand 
Trunk and New York Central Railways, Goodyear Rubber Co., Inter¬ 
national Harvester Co., Reed Shoe Co., The Waterman Pen Co., Taylor 
Instruments Co.; Carnegie Hero Fund, Dr. C. F. Hodge, Edwin H. 
Howells, W. H. Meadowcroft, Secretary to Mr. Edison ; The Teachers’ 
College, Columbia University; to Doubleday Page & Co. for illustrations 
from The World’s Work, Country Life in America, and The Nature 
Library and to the publishers of the Outlook and The Illustrated World 
for pictures from those publications; to Ginn & Company, The Macmillan 
Co., Harper Brothers, and Messrs. Hutchinson & Co. and Cassell & Co., 
of London, for pictures from their publications; to the Owen Publishing 
Company for both illustrations and selections from Methods and Devices 
and The Normal Instructor; to the A. Flanagan Comoany for selections 
from Primary Plans. 

The poems by Holmes, Longfellow, Carv and Whittier are used by per¬ 
mission of and special arrangement with Houghton, Mifflin & Company, 
the authorized publishers of their works and the comment of Dr. Stanley 
Hall on pictures and education bv permission of the publishers of the 
Perry Pictures Company. 

The Publishers 


XVT 


General Outline 


THE CHILD AND HIS WORLD . 

DR. McMURRY ON THE MEANING OF GEOGRAPHY . 

THE EARTH AS A PICTURE BOOK . 

THE UNITED STATES 

The Building of a Continent—North America. 

Discovering America as Columbus Did—Why Ships Must Have Harbors 
and Why Great Cities Grow Up On Them—Variety of Land Formation on 
America’s Eastern Coast—Relation of Crooked Coasts to Straight Sailing 
by European Explorers—Every Map a Story of Adventure—The Different 
Kinds of Maps and the Language They Talk—How to Make a Products 
Map of North America—North America as a Bird Sees It and as a Boy 
Made It—How Rivers Use Mountains to Build Sea Coasts—Why All 
Rivers Empty into the Sea. 

Land of the Pilgrim’s Pride—New England. 

A Country That Was Born Poor and Became Rich—The Settlement of 
New England—Its Mountains, Rivers and Rocky Coasts—How Its Bays 
and Islands Were Made—How the Glacier Took Off New England’s Coat 
—The Glacier’s “Calling Cards’’—How It Made the Lakes of New Eng¬ 
land—The Secret the Lakes Tell—What a Glacier Is and How It Acts— 

How the Glacier Dropped Cape Cod. 

The Keystone Group—Middle Atlantic States. 

The Great Trade Highway—The Harbor of New York—The Gateways 
to the Continent—Natural Resources—How the Mountain Wall Helped 
to Make New York the “Front Door” of America—The Building of the 
Railroads—Why They Follow Old Indian Trails. 

Way Down South in Dixie—The Southern States. 

Beautiful Land of Sunshine—Over Mountain, River and Plain—The Island- 
Dotted Coast—The Appalachians and the Routes of the Song Birds— 
Beautiful Bathing Beaches—Curious Way of Making Islands—The Dismal 
Swamp and the Trees that Breathe with Their Knees—How Rivers Get to 
Wandering (Meanders)—Island-Guarded Harbors—Swamps as Coal Fac¬ 
tories—The Fairyland the Corals Built. 

The Richest Valley in the World—Central States. 103 

The Mississippi, Greatest of Earth’s Rivers—When the Mississippi Valley 
Was Below the Sea—A Trip Down the Mississippi From Its Source to the 
Gulf—Beautiful Scenery on the Way—The Big Gutter the River Built— 

The Pranks the River Plays—Mississippi and Hudson Compared—Why 
the Mississippi Was Not Discovered from the Sea—The Building of the 
Jetties, A Great Engineering Work—The Great Bridge at St. Louis—The 
Problem of Floods. 

Backbone of Our Country—Rocky Mountain States. 117 

How to Study Mountain Systems—The March of the Mountain Ranges— 

The Appalachians and the Cordilleras Compared—Where the Giant Moun¬ 
tains Spring From the Plains—The Wild Skyline of the Rockies—The 
Vast Plateau and Its River Gorges—On the Firing Line of the Dead Vol¬ 
canoes—The Empty Bowl of a Vanished Lake—Great Work of Irrigation. 

XVII 


39 


69 


1 


















General Outline—Continued 

Uncle Sam's Great Playgrounds—Our National Parks. 1 57 

The “Ghost” of the Mountain That Was—A Visit to Johnny Bear s 
Hotel—In the Cloud Land of the Giant’s Bowl—Where Hot Water Spouts 
Out of the Earth (The Geysers)—Like Water on a Hot Stove Lid 
Witches’ Cauldrons Without the Witches—How Two Boys Made a Geyser 
—Different Dispositions of the Geysers—What Makes “Old Faithful 
Spout so Faithfully—How the Paint Pots Got Their Names—Healing 
Waters of the Hot Springs—The Parks in the Mountains—Where 
Glaciers Are Kept on Exhibition. 

Little Panama and Its Big Canal.227 

How the Panama Canal Gives a Short Cut Across the World—The Con¬ 
struction of the Canal a Great Victory of Peace—Balboa’s Discovery of 
the Pacific and Dream of the Canal—But It Was Easier to Dream than 
to Do—Mountains, Swamps, Jungles and Eleven beet of Rain!—Spanish 
Traffic Across the Isthmus—The Sluggish River and the Jungle—A Light¬ 
house in the Forest—The French and the Canal. 

OTHER LANDS THAN OURS 

Our Neighbors on the South—Mexico and the Central 

American States .,. W 4 

Why Mexico Has Been Called the “Horn of Plenty”—A Land of Few 
Rivers and Harbors—Why It Has Few Rivers—The Story of the 
Spaniards—Big Trees and Fierce Animals—The Struggle Through the 
Jungle—Civilization of the Aztecs—Land of Constant Revolution. 

The Great Dominion of Canada. 206 

Vast Empire of Natural Wealth—A Forest Four Thousand Miles Long— 
Heroes of the Great White North—Wild Track of the Ocean Liners— 
What the “Grand Banks” of the Ocean Are—Perce Rock, The Guardian 
of the St. Lawrence—The World’s Greatest Sea Fisheries—The First 
Reapers of the Silver Harvest—New World Furs for Old World Buyers— 

The Hudson Bay Company. 

PHYSIOLOGY 

What Strange Land Is This?. 246 

Story of a Remarkable Community of Millions that is Not Even Men¬ 
tioned in Your Geography or History—They Have Machines that Run and 
Repair Themselves, Cameras that Take Pictures in Colors, Telephones 
that Record Sounds, Policemen that Never Fail to Do Their Duty, Citi¬ 
zens that Love One Another Better than Themselves, and Many Other 
Things You Would Hardly Believe. 

IN THE WORLD OL NUMBERS 

Practical Arithmetic and Business System. 271 

How the Clock Teaches Us About Fractions—Adding the Numerators— 

The “Common Denominator Mystery”—Inverting the Divisor—How 
Fractions Act When You Multiply—The Garden Where the Decimals 
Grow—Where the Naught Comes In—Keeping to the Right—The Per¬ 
centage Key Polly Found in the Pie—Short Cuts in Business Arithmetic 
—Simple Lessons in Bookkeeping. 

ASTRONOMY 

Seeing Tliings at Night... 294 

Night All the Time in the Moon—Who the Man in the Moon Really Is— 

How the Earth Leads the Moon—What Makes the Moon’s Changes— 
What the Sun Spots Tell Us—How You Can Measure the Moon—How 
the Moon Introduced Us to the Sun—Why the Sun Is Your Grandfather 
—Where They Only Have Christmas Every Other Year and Leap Year 
Once in Eight Years—Why Jupiter Is Like a Tea Kettle—What Would 
Happen to Saturn If It Should Fall Into the Sea—How the Little Bear 
Trots Around the Pole Star. 


XVIII. 











General Outline—Continued 

METEOROLOGY 

What Is the “It” That Rains?. 

Myth Stories of the Weather—The Waltz of the Winds, Like Happy 
Chddren Dancing-The Winds and the Sphinx’s Nose—The Rain Frogs 
Weather Men The Man With a Hundred Eyes—Tools for Taking 
the Weather Apart How the Rain Gauge Counts the Raindrops—Study- 
mg the Weather at School—How the Storm Guest Registers Before He 
Arrives—Reading the Mind of the Clouds—The Little Bo Peep Cloud 
—How the Clouds Get Acquainted With Each Other. 

NATURE STUDY AND THE CHILD 

The Purpose of Nature Study. 

The Childs Natural Interest in Nature—The Training of His Senses and 
the Reasoning Faculties—The Love of Nature. 

A LETTER FROM JOHN BURROUGHS TO OUR BOYS AND 
GIRLS .. 

THE WORLD OF PLANTS 

The Great Grass Family.. 

Wonders You Can Find in the Grasses—Things We Look at But Do 
Not See—The Velvet Carpet on the Lawn—Going Down Where the 
Grass Begins—How Grass Sews the Earth Together—Why Human Be¬ 
ings Are Grass Eaters. 

How to Know the Wild Flowers.. 

The Geography of Our Flowers—Flower Fairies Come First in the Woods 
—Why the Earliest Flowers Are Pale—Spring Beauties of the Lily Family 
—A “Violet” That Is Not a Violet—Jack in the Pulpit and His Friends— 
Sweet Miss Violet and Her Neighbors. 

How to Know the Poison Plants. 

Poison Ivy Found Everywhere—Remember What Its Leaves Tell—A 
Sumac That Is Poison—Harmless Plants That Have Dangerous Doubles 
—Fool’s Parsley Often Mistaken for Garden Parsley—The Poison Hem¬ 
lock—The Yellow Buttercup’s Poisonous Cousin. 

THE WORLD OF ANIMAL LIFE 

Some Curious Homes of Animals. 

Birds’ Nests That Are Good to Eat—A Bird Village in a Tree—A House 
With a Real and a False Doorway—Weaving Glass Houses on the 
Cliffs—How Birds Build a Tenement House Around a Tree Trunk—How 
the Tailor Bird Sews Her Nest—A Bird That Hatches Her Young With 
An Incubator—Two Burrowing Birds—A Bird That Walls Up His Mate— 
Feathered Barons in Cliff Castles—A Bird City With Squares and Streets 
—Where the Birds Hold a Congress—A Bird That Decorates His Home— 
The Kingfisher’s House with a Long Hall. 

Some Strange Water Animals. 

The Big Fish with a Mouth as Wide as a City Street—Why a Whale is 
Not a Fish—The Courage of the Sperm Whale—Sea Lions, Sea Dogs and 
Sea Horses—The Sperm Whale and the Octopus—The Seals and Their 
Young—Water Babies that Fear the Water—How Seals Live Under the 
Ice in Winter—The Walrus and the Various Uses He Makes of His 
Tusks—The Sharks, the Tigers of the Sea—The Fish That Carries a 
Sword—Nest Builders Under the Sea—Family Life of the Sticklebacks—• 
Floating Nests of the Sargasso Sea—A Fish That Makes a Soap Bubble 
Nest. 










General Outline—Continued 


The Busy Honey Bee. 393 

The Royal Prisoner in Her Parlor—Where a Bee Line Is Crooked—Bad 
Temper of Bee Queens—How the Bees Do Without Electric Fans—Why 
the Old Queen Goes Into Exile—How a Bee Colony Prepares Its New 
Home—The Queen’s Busy Work, Laying the Eggs in the Cells—The 
Market Baskets of the Bees and How They Go Marketing—How the 
Bee Drinks Through a Straw—The Bee’s Life of Danger and Adventure. 

/ 

The Butterflies and the Moths. 4°7 

How to Tell Moths from Butterflies—The Beautiful Life of a Day—The 
Butterfly Whose Beauty Gave a Great Man the Headache—The Owl’s 
Eyes of the Moth—The Old Lady Moth and Her Paisley Shawl—Rais¬ 
ing Moths and Butterflies—Moths’ Eggs Under the Microscope—Where 
to Look for Moth Eggs—Some Things the Microscope Tells About Moths 
and Butterflies—The Butterfly’s Wireless Telegraph System. 

The Wise Ants and Their Ways. 4 J 9 

The Ant People and Their Buried Cities—Good Aunts Among the Ants— 
Visiting an Ant City—The Ant House in the Woods—A Town All Under 
One Roof—The Honey Making Ant—Ants That Hold Political Con¬ 
ventions—Inside the Ant’s Apartments—How They Waterproof Their 
Apartments—The Bill of Fare in the Ant Home—How an Ant Calls for 
Help—Strange Guests in an Ant Home—Why Ants Are Like Hunting 
Dogs—Neatness of the Ant—“Barley Grains” That Are Baby Ants. 

SOME OF THE WORLD’S HELPERS 


Dr. Jordan on Lives That Teach Great Lessons. 431 

Jane Addams, the Neighbor Lady of Hull House. 433 

A Little Girl’s Dream of Doing Good and How It Came True—The 
Beginnings of Hull House and What Hull House Is. 

Colonel George Washington Goethals. 436 

The Little World at the Isthmus—The “Boss of the Job”—The Com- 
mander-in-Chief of an Army of Peace. 

Colonel Gorgas, the Man Who Conquered the Mosquito. 440 


Colonel Gorgas and the Little Terror of the Isthmus—A Triumph of 
Science and Diplomacy—Where Policemen Arre&t Mosquitoes—Mosqui¬ 
toes Worse Than Jungle Beasts—In the Pest Hole of the Americas—Fifty 


Styles of Mosquito Bites. 

Benjamin Barr Lindsey, the “Kid” Judge. 444 

Why the “Kid” Judge is Proud of the Name—An Appeal to a Boy’s Honor. 

The Wright Brothers, Conquerors of the Air. 448 


How the Air Man Steers His Way Through the Clouds—Boyhood of 
the Wright Brothers—Busy Every Minute—Boys Who Finished What¬ 
ever They Began—A Family That Works Together—Putting a Heart Tnto 
the Mechanical Bird—What the Wright Boys Learned from Bicycles, 

Kites and Boats. 

Sir Wilfred Grenfell, the Doctor Knight of Labrador. 456 

Soldiers of the Common Good—How Dr. Grenfell Became Sir Wilfred 
—Winning Friends at the King’s Court—Giving Up London for Labrador 
—Perils of the Land of Eternal Snow. 

Luther Burbank, the Plant Wizard. 459 

The Boy Who Was Kind to Plants—How the Wizard Works in His Nur¬ 
sery—A Man Who Prefers Enriching the World to Being Rich. 

XX 













General Outline—Continued 

James J. Hill, the Colossus of Roads. .. 

Little Jim Hill’s Fondness for Good Books—The Hard Working Scotch 
Boy—The Dream of a Railroad Empire and How It Came True. 

Lord Strathcona, Canada’s Grand Old Man. 

Young Donald and the Books—How Donald Smith Came to Go to Canada 
—“You Will All Be Proud of My Donald Yet.” said His Mother, and They 
were. 

John Burroughs, Prophet of Nature.:. 

Preferred Birds and Squirrels to Getting Rich—His Boyhood in the Ro¬ 
mantic Catskills—A Reporter of All Outdoors. 

Thomas A. Edison, the Wizard of Invention. 

The Busy Boy Who Forgot to Get Hungry—The First Time the Phono¬ 
graph Talked—Finding How the Wheels Go Round—How Work Makes 
“Wizards.” 


Roald Amundsen, Discoverer of the South Pole. 

His Boyish Ambition and How He Carried It Out—Six Years’ Study for 
His Work—The Great Dash for the Pole—Raising the Flag at the Pole. 

Clara Barton, the Angel of tlie Battlefields. 

The Bashful Little Girl Who Was Not Afraid of Battlefields nor Roaring 
Cannon—Her Care for Wounded Soldiers—Organizing the American Red 
Cross. 

Mary Antin and the Promised Land. 

4 

Why She Was Astonished that America Is Good to Strangers—“That 
Glorious Place, the School”—Her Book, “The Promised Land.” 

Helen Keller, the Wonderful Blind Girl. 

Living in Darkness and Silence—The Dreadful Fever that Destroyed 
Hearing and Sight—The Happy Day When She Could Understand—How 
Helen Went to College—Listening to the Lectures with Her Fingers— 
A Beautiful and Useful Life. 


THE HOW AND WHY OF COMMON THINGS 


Where Do Our Winter Fruits Come From? 99; Where Do Some Big 
Cities Get Their Names? 102; How Do Cities Get Water? 151; How is 
Water Made to Pump Itself? 152; What Is the Aurora Borealis, 334; How 
Does a Fish Swim? 373; How Do Oysters Make Pearls? 380; What Are 
Spices Made of and Where Do They Come From? 392; How Did Birds 
Help Us Get Pens? 610; What Is Radium? 662. 

Why Do Cats Have Whiskers? Why Do We See “Stars” When We Get 
a Hard Bump? W r hy Don’t Turtles Have Teeth? Why Has a Hog a 
Short Underjaw? Why Do a Rabbit’s Ears Point Backward and a Dogs 
Forward? How Do You Talk? Why Are the Shells of Guinea Eggs so 
Hard? Why Does an Eagle Lay Fewer Eggs Than a Hen? Why Do 
Swallows Fly Low Before a Rain? Why Does a Fly Have so Many Eyes? 
1018. 


Why Do Cats and Dogs Lay Back Their Ears When Angry? Where Do 
Flowers Go in Winter? Why Do Crickets Chirp? What Is Cork? Do 
Plants Understand Arithmetic? Why Would We Freeze if There Were 
no Air? Why Do Kangaroos Have Pouches? Why Is the Butterfly an 
Unselfish Mother? Why Do Some Animals Put Up Hay? 1019. 

How Does Water “Throw Stones?” Why Do Fish Have Air Bladders? 
Why Don’t Plants Grow as Well in the City as in the Country? Why 
Can a Newly Hatched Bird Live for Hours Without Food Why Are 
Moths Downy? Why Can Animals Move Their Ears While Man Cannot? 


XXI 










General Outline—Continued 

What Bird Flies Backward? Why Do Woodpeckers Peck? What Is a 
Dewdrop? Why Are Lips Red? What Are Eyebrows for? 1020. 

1020 

Why Do Birds Prefer Silk and Wool Linings for Nests? Why Do Ducks 
and Geese Walk Like Sailors? How Do Crickets Chirp? How Can a 
Snail Move Without Feet? How Does a Frog Croak? Where are the 
Stars in Daytime? Why Can’t We Feel the Earth Go ’Round? 1021. 

1021 

THE GREAT INDUSTRIES 


Corn Clubs and tpie Corn Industry. 5 11 

How the Corn Club Boys Helped Out Uncle Sam—Boys Beat Their 
Fathers Raising Corn—Putting Legs on the Corn Crop—All the Steps in 
Selecting and Testing Corn Seed Illustrated and Explained. 


"To Fill That Sweet Tooth”—The Sugar Industry. 527 

In the Happy Land of Sugar Cane—The World’s Sugar Bowl—What a 
Sugar Plantation Looks Like—A Visit to a Sugar Mill—Refining of Sugar 
—The Beet Sugar Industry—In a Maple Sugar Camp. 


“Oueer Relations of Our Shoes”—The Leather Industry. ... 537 

A Picture Summary—The Leather Menagerie (Different Animals from 
Which Leather Is Made)—The Zoos in Our Houses—Oak Apples from 
Which Tannin is Made—How a Bossy’s Skin Is Changed to Leather, Told 
in Pictures—A Trip Through a Shoe Factory. 


"Little Brown Friends that Come to Breakfast”—The Coffee 
Industry . .,.557 

Picture Summary of Story of Coffee and Where It Grows—The “Keep 
Awake’’ Medicine in the Kaffa Bunns—How Coffee Gets to Market—How 
Mr, Kaffa Bunn Came to America—“Finger Trip” to Coffeeland (A Jour¬ 
ney on the Map)—How to Test the Purity of Coffee. 

The Fisherman and the Harvest of the Sea. 567 

A Life of Hardship and Danger—Taking the Codfish Off the Roof—Fish 
that Know Their Geographies—Fishing in Different Countries—How the 
Government Raises Fish—Fish That Ride in a Pullman—A Nursery for 
Salmon Babies. 

How to Read a Rug—Work of the Weavers. 587 

Little Weavers in School—Women the World's First Weavers—Colors 
From Many Sources—Weaving Dreams into the Rugs—How a Smyrna 
Rug Is Woven—Weaving a Cashmere Shawl—How to Choose Weaves and 
Patterns. 


"The Rubber Santa Claus- and His Gifts”— The Rubber 

Industry . 594 

A Rubber Christmas—Where People Milk the Trees—A Rubber that 
Grows in Our Gardens—The Rubber Farmers’ “Fancy Work”—How Rub¬ 
ber Milk Is Like Cow’s Milk—Another Use for Cooky Cutters—Queer 
Way of Making Rubber Balls—How Automobile Tires Are Made. 

Strange Story of a Bucket of Coal—The Coal Industry. 613 

Story Coal Tells Under the Microscope—Where Our Largest Coal Fields 
Lie—Down in a Coal Mine—Coal Mine Made by Children—When Fire and 
Water Meet in the Mine—Making Mining Safer—How Coal Gets to 
Market. 

Fleeces that Keep Us Warm—The Wool Industry... 633 

Life on a Sheep Ranch—How the Collies Look After the Sheep—Tender 
Care of the Little Lambs—When the Sheep Takes Off His Overcoat— 
What the Wool’s Teeth Are For—Use of Thistles in Weaving—A Picture 
Visit to a Woolen Factory—How to Test Woolen Goods. 


XXII 










General Outline—Continued 

The Great Story of Oil. 645 

How Oil Grew in the Woods—The Oil in Its Stone Prison and How It 
Is Released—Where the Map Was Soaked With Oil—How Oil is Refined 
and the Many Things Obtained from It—How Oil Gets to Market—Will 
We Miss the Oil when the Wells Run Dry?—How the Oil Well Is Shot— 

Good Housekeeping in the Oil Business. 

The New Life on the Farm—Scientific Agriculture. 667 

How Men, Plants and Animals Get Their Food—The Beginning of Agri¬ 
culture—The Time When All Apples Were Crabs—How the Wild Hen 
Was Trained to Lay More Eggs—Why Fertilizers Are Needed—The 
Three Millers that Grind up the Soil—Advantages of Crop Rotation— 
Control of Water in the Soil—Practice of Irrigation—A Bushel of Wheat 
in Ten Minutes—How Rice Is Grown—Culture of Cotton—Why Alfalfa 
Is So Valuable—Animal Life on the Farm. 


LESSONS AT NOME AND AT SCHOOL 


The Use of Pictures in Teaching. 489 

The Eye as the Window of the Mind—Effect of Pictures on Memory and 
Understanding—Value of Pictures Compared with Words—The First 
Picture Book—Learning to Interpret Pictures. 

How to Learn to Draw. 708 

How to Hold the Brush—Five Steps in Drawing a Grass Straw—The 
Gracefulness of Leaves—How to Draw Animal Forms—How Dogs and 


Other Things Are Made of Cubes—The Picture Language of Mechanics— 

How to Make Working Drawings—Studies of the Teapot Spout—Making 
Pictures of Manufactured Things. 

How to Learn to Sew. 733 

First Comes the Knot—The Running Stitch—Basting—Gathering—The 
Back Stitch—The Overhand Stitch—Overcasting—Making a Hem—How 
to Darn a Stocking—Darning a Tear with a Running Stitch—Flow to 
Mend a Glove. 

Different Things to Sew. 74 ° 

Making New Clothes for Mary Chilton (Mary being a Doll!)—Lingerie 
for Little Mary—How to Make Mary’s Pajamas—The Pajama Jacket and 
the Slippers—Pretty Work with a Needle—Sheaf Stitch—Making an Em¬ 
broidery Design. 

Things to Weave and How to Weave 1 hem. 75 ° 

How to Choose Reeds for Large and Small Baskets—Eight Steps in Mak¬ 
ing the Basket—Bead Weaving—How to Make the Loom The Weft 
Threads and the Warp Threads—Weaving a Craft Portiere. 


Things to Make of Paper—Paper Cutting. 759 

The Fun of Paper Cutting—How to Make a Paper Canoe Then Tr> a 
Butterfly, and After that a Bird—How to Make Paper Roses Bloom All 
the Year Round—A Strawberry Basket and a May Flower Basket. 


Stenciling and Block Printing. 77 ° 

Stenciling a Border Design—Making the Stencil for a Clover Leaf De¬ 
sign. The Arrangement of “Motifs’—How to Hold the Brush in Stencil¬ 
ing_What to Do When the Paint Is Too Thick—Various Things 

Which Block Printing Can Be Applied. 


to 


XXIII 











General Outline—Continued 


CHILD TRAINING 

The Science and Art of Cooking. 

Table for Selection of Foods—Value of Eggs as Food and How to Test 
Them—What to Know and Do About Meat and Poultry—The Different 
Cuts of Beef and What They Are Used For—How to Cook Cereals—How 
to Make Good Bread—Why Loaves Should Not Be Too Large—Time¬ 
table for Stewing and Boiling. 

The Boy and His Workshop—Manual Training. 

The Joy of Making Things—Selection of Tools—Care of the Plane-—About 
the Work Bench—How to Make a Swing Seat—Seed Germination Box 
and Bird House—Sleeve Board and Book Holder—Book Shelves—Things 
to Make for Mother—How to Make a Periscope—Making Edison’s “Play¬ 
things”—Batteries, Telegraph Outfit, Electric Bells. 

Pets and How to Keep Them. 

Helping the Ants Keep House—Only Two Meals a Week for Mr. Toad— 
How to Care for Tree Frogs—How to Keep a Squirrel “Squirrelsoine”— 
How to Make Bunny Comfortable—What to Do When the Baby Bunnies 
Come—Gold Fish and the Aquarium—How to Raise Pigeons and Canaries. 

Telling Stories to Children. 

Why Children Read Harmful Books—Effect of Stories on Character Form¬ 
ing—Why Primitive Stories Interest Children—Good Humor Not Cruel 
Humor—Stories Where the Good Always Triumphs—Striking Example 
of the Spiritual in Boys—Special Appeals to Girls. 

“Playing You Are Somebody Else”—Dramatization by 
Children. 

The Joy of Just Pretending—Play Acting in the Kindergarten—Where to 
Get Good Plays—Turning Plistory into Plays—Longer Plays for Older 
Children—Books of Children’s Plays. 

A Visit to a Model Kindergarten. 

Carrying Out Froebel’s Great Idea—At the Kindergarten Tables—How 
the Child Spends His Senses—The Doll as a Teacher—Indoor Games— 
The Occupation Period—Developing the Spirit of Giving—Training in 
System and Order—The Goodbye Songs—Books on Kindergartening for 
Parents to Read. 

OUR GOVERNMENT 

Gifford Pinchot on Man and the Trees. 


779 


800 


855 


867 


879 


887 


Our Grand Old Trees—Forest Preservation. 

The Slaughter of the Trees—When Even the Soil Was Killed—Fire the 
Forester’s Worst Enemy—After the Fires the Floods—How We Missed 
the Water as the Well Went Dry—The Six Forest Districts—The Forest 
Fire Department—Planting Tree Memories in Europe—Work of the For¬ 
ester—Forestry in Europe, a Picture Story. 

The Navy and Its Work. 

Two Ways in Which a Boy Can Serve in the Navy—The Naval Heroes’ 
Floating Home—How a Man-of-War Is Handled in Time of Battle—See¬ 
ing with Another Man’s Eyes—Why the Battleship Has a Hundred En¬ 
gines—The Torpedo Boat and Its Wonderful Ways—How the Torpedo Is 
Made to Guide Itself—Naval Warfare Past and Present. 

Magical Powers of a Postage Stamp—Postoffice Department. 

The Mail Cars and the Mail Ships—Many Ways in Which Letters Travel_ 

Big “Pea Shooters” that Carry Letters—Helping Out People Who Are 
Careless—Uncle Sam Carries Parcels. Bonnets, Pies and Babies. 


904 

906 


928 


95 1 


XXIV 











General Outline—Continued 

STORY OF OUR FESTIVALS AND HOLIDAYS 

Merry Christmas ! . 

Happy New Year. 

St. Patrick’s Day. 

Easter Sunday . 

All Fools’ Day. 

Arbor Day . 

May Day and Its Queens. 

Why May Thirtieth Is Memorial Day. 

Flag Day . . 

The Fourth of July. . .. 

Labor Day. 

Hallowe’en . 

Thanksgiving Day . 

MOTHERS AND WIVES OF OUR PRESIDENTS 

Martha Washington. 

Mary, Mother of Washington. 

The Portia of the Revolution—Abigail Adams 

Dolly Madison . 

Nancy Hanks . 

Eliza Johnson. 

Eliza Ballou Garfield. 


969 

976 

979 

981 

982 

983 

986 

988 

990 

991 

994 

996 

999 


ioor 
1004 
1007 
1009 
1011 
1013 
1015 


XXV 





























SEEING THE WORLD 
AND ITS PEOPLES 


THE STUDY OF GEOGRAPHY 


Purpose and Method of Modern Geography- 
Teaching in Home and School 


T HE formal study of 

Geography is not begun un¬ 
til the fourth or fifth school year; 
but much of the earlier work is in 9 
preparation for that study. In its 
broadest sense Geography em- 
Geografxy braces all the natural 

a Vast sciences and the prac- 

Science tical activities of men. 

It has to do with land, water and 
climate; minerals, plants and ani¬ 
mals; industry, trade and govern¬ 
ment. 

The Child’s First Steps in Geography 

The child of ten brings to this 
study a knowledge of his environ¬ 
ment through Home Geography. 
Travel stories and pictures have 
introduced him to strange lands 
and peoples. Accounts of primi¬ 
tive races and biographical stories 
have given him ideas of human 
progress, and of widely varying 
degrees of present day civiliza¬ 
tion. Our “Typical Industries” 
show the world at work under 
various conditions. Through our 
“Soldiers of Peace” the child has 
glimpses of government in action. 
When the formal study of Geog- 






raphy is finally reached all 
that he knows is brought together 
and built up into a concept of the 
big, round world and its busy 
people, as a whole. 

To this end Geography as a 
school study is chiefly descriptive. 
It is a presentation of the earth’s 
surface as the home of man; the 
earth’s useful contents and what 
man is doing with them. Modern 

Modern Ideas teaching attaches less 
About the importance than of 
Use of Mafis p 0 ptical divi¬ 

sions, since the world has come to 
be bound so closely together by 
news, travel and trade. Maps are 
no longer crowded with the names 
of places to which no one ever 
goes, nor the text with useless in¬ 
formation. But the large and 
lasting facts are emphasized. For 
instance, the exact population of 
a city is unimportant and subject 
to change. But the natural ad¬ 
vantage which caused the location 
of a city, and which makes it con¬ 
tinue to grow, is a permanent and 
important fact. 























































































































giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiifliiiiifM THE CHILD AND HIS WORLD iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiKiiifiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing 


Why North America Is Studied First 

Of the six great land masses, 
1 North America is studied first for 
I several reasons. ' It is our home, and 
1 to it the child brings the greatest in- 
j terest and knowledge. “The impor- 
| tance of teaching this first continent 
j clearly and completely, cannot be 
| overestimated/’ says the famous ed- 
| ucator, Francis W. Parker, “for up- 

I What on is based all of a 

| Francis child’s future progress in 
| Parker Said geographical knowl- 

| edge.” And also, let us add, his in- 
| telligent interest in its various as- 
| pects—scientific, physical, commer- 
| cial and political. It is obvious that 
| his success and pleasure in life must 
| be based upon those interests. 

No other continent presents such 
| a wide variation of climate, and such 
| a wealth of natural resources put to 
| the highest uses by advanced and en- 
| ergetic people, together with so 
M tt n simple a structure and 

|j now Uur # 1 

| Continent with so many clearly 

1 E / ,t %2 1Z i S i marked geographical 

types, as North America. 
| Tt has an enormous length of shore 
| line with fine harbors, great and 

1 varied mountain and river systems, 


the largest fertile river valley in any 
temperate part of the world, deserts, 
frigid and tropic regions, waterfalls, 
volcanoes and glaciers. 

Giving Life and Color to the Text Books 

From lack of space the school text 
books cannot do much more than 
record important facts and give an 
orderly series of lessons, maps and 
illustrations. Teachers supply an in¬ 
credible amount of color and detail 
from their own knowledge, and refer 
the children to other sources. But 
what is wanted on any one topic is 
scattered through many books, and 
hard for little people to find and 
piece together. The following series 
of studies brings such supplementary 
matters together from many sources. 
It amplifies the text in every direc¬ 
tion, presents vivid pictures, and ex¬ 
plains the causes of local conditions 
in every part of the world. It is in- 
Home, tended to help the child 

Workshop, build up a living image, 
Playground anc j g e f- a sympathetic 

understanding of the big, round, 
beautiful earth that is the home, the 
workshop and the playground of so 
many millions of differing peoples. 

The Editors. 


The World in Miniature 

Yon stream, whose sources run. 

Turned by a pebble’s edge, 

Is Athabasca, rolling towards the sun 
Through the cleft mountain ledge. 

The slender rill had strayed. 

But for the slanting stone, 

To evening’s ocean, vAth the tangled braid 
Of foam-flecked Oregon. 


—Holmes 



TEACHERS COLLEGE 

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY 
NEW YORK 


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♦♦♦ 
♦ # 


!!%!♦ 


The Meaning of Geography 


To the Readers of Pictured Knowledge: 


Geography as a school subject has 
| wonderfully changed its character in the 
| last twenty years. It used to consist of a 
| description of the earth’s surface and the 
i location of places; and it gave the im- 
| pression that both the earth and the 
I things upon it always looked much as 
1 they now do. Such study was necessar- 
1 ily superficial, calling chiefly for exercise 
I of memory, and there was little reason 
I for doing much of it. 

Ea 

Training the Reasoning Faculty 

People over forty years of age would 
| hardly recognize present geography as 
1 akin to what they had as children, un- 
| der that name. It usually deals, first, 
1 with the home environment, showing 
1 how the soil was produced, the hills and 
i valleys formed, and certain industries 
| developed there. Then it explains why 
I the different parts of the earth have the 
| weather they do; how the great occupa- 
g tions have arisen in the leading countries 
1 and why they vary in importance here 
| and there. 

Where formerly it was mainly descrip- 
| tive, it is now causal, dealing with prin- 
1 ciples as the reasons. And where for- 
| merly it taxed chiefly memory, it now 
1 requires full thinking power. Of course, 
1 it is far more interesting and profitable 
g than it used to be. 

Geography as a Central Study 

Colonel Francis Parker, probably our 
| most distinguished teacher of a genera- 
| tion ago, was a leader in giving to geog- 
| raphy its new dignity. He realized not 
| only that it could have a very rich con- 
| tent, but also that it might furnish the 
i basis for much history, literature, nature 
g study and science. For these reasons, 
| in the Practice Department of his Train- 
g ing School in Chicago, he made it, to a 


large extent, the central study for the | 
entire curriculum. His example, in this | 
respect, has had great influence through- | 
out the country. 

Geography, Travel and the Industries 

Any one now, who even pretends to | 
an education, must have studied geog- | 
raphy extensively. The leading purpose | 
of travel is a fuller knowledge of that | 
field. And whether one travels with this i 
purpose or not, much study of maps and I 
other geographical facts is necessary, as | 
a condition of comfort and other profit, g 

Nearly everybody greatly needs geog- | 
raphy in two ways. The first concerns g 
one’s life work. There are seven great g 
occupations in the world, namely, i 
agriculture, lumbering, fishing, mining, g 
manufacturing, transporting and trade. j 
Geography tells more about these occu- g 
pations than does any other common § 
study; and since most people are engaged | 
in some one of these lines, each person g 
should have a good knowledge of this g 
subject. g 

Geography and General Culture 

Each person should be well acquainted j 
with it for practical reasons, also. News- | 
papers are constantly referring to coun- g 
tries, cities and geographical conditions. g 
It is striking how many magazine arti- g 
cles deal with geography. Naturally, | 
then, such topics are frequent subjects g 
of conversation in social gatherings. | 
Any one, therefore, who neglects this I 
line of experience, is sure to lack intel- g 
ligence in his reading and conversation, j 
and to feel embarrassed in consequence. | 
He ought to feel so. In these times the | 
map habit is as important as the diction- | 
ary habit, a fact which, alone, shows the | 
prominence of geography in daily life. 

Frank M. McMurry I 


Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw 


5 





SEEING THE 
WORLD AND ITS 
PEOPLES 



The Earth as a Picture Book 


H AVE you got your 
first Geography! 

What fun you will have 
with it! Geo—graphy 
means earth pictures. 

If you go to a picnic a 
mile from home you see new pic¬ 
tures. But unless you have time 
and money to travel long and far, 
you cannot see distant lands, nor 
more than a small part of our own 
dear America. It takes four days 
to cross America from east to west, 
on fast trains. 

So, isn’t it lucky that we have 
a stay-at-home travel and picture 
book! The Geography shows the 
places, shapes and sizes of the 
large bodies of land, and the wide 
oceans that roll between and 
around them. It tells you how to 
go from one country to another, 

Stay-at- and takeS y OU t0 See 

Home a 1 1 the interesting 

Travel places and people. It 

never becomes tiresome. Our big, 
round, beautiful world has only 
land, water and weather, plants, 
animals and people, but out of 
these few things it makes count¬ 
less pictures. It’s as full of de¬ 
lightful surprises as a Christmas 
stocking. 

It makes mountains so high 
they wear their snow 
caps all summer, riv¬ 
ers miles wide, rocky 
mile deep, waterfalls 
to tumble from the 



Mother 
Earth s 
Many Scenes 


gorges a 
that seem 


clouds, sandy ocean 

beaches big enough for 

hundreds of people to 

go swimming at once, 

broad deserts, prairies 

that are billowy seas of 

grass and flowers, and whole 

mountain slopes of forest trees. 

All of these and many other 

grand and beautiful things can be 

seen in our country. 

* 

Some things will astonish you— 
natural fountains of boiling water, 

And Such mountain peaks that 
Strange smoke like chimneys, 

Things Too! an g rivers of ice that 

have not melted in thousands of 
years. 

d hen there are the stories of 
plant and animal life. We ex¬ 
plain many kinds of work that 
men do in fields, factories and 
mines. We tell how our own 
country is governed, and how far¬ 
away people look and live. You 
see, we knew you would come up¬ 
on many interesting things on this 
The World Geography round-the- 

at Hs world journey that 

you would want to 
know more about. We could not 
stop to explain them, so we put 
such things as coal mines, camel 
caravans and fishing fleets in sep¬ 
arate stories. What do you want 
to see first! Our own country! 
That’s right. So: All aboard 
for America! And keep your 
eyes open. 




































































































































SEEING THE WORLD 
AND ITS PEOPLES 


NORTH AMERICA 


Taber-Prnng Art Co. 

It took Columbus many weeks to cross that ocean, and it was a happy day when a tired 
little sea bird came aboard his flagship to rest. Such birds nest on shore and never fly many 
miles out to sea. So they tell the sailor land is near. 


H OW would you like to pre¬ 
tend you were with Colum¬ 
bus when he discovered America? 
Then you need not be ashamed 

Playing of knowing SO little 

You Were about the big body 
Columbus 0 f land on which you 

live. Columbus did not even know 
America was here. He just 
bumped into it when he was try¬ 
ing to find a new way to India 


and China. Still he knew a 
great deal about Geography. 

What a Little Bird Told Columbus 

The Atlantic Ocean, that lies 
east of America, is only three 
thousand miles wide. Big steam¬ 
ers cross it in five or six days. 
But it took Columbus as many 
weeks to cross that ocean in his 
funny little tubs of sailing ves- 




7 








































































































y 


PICTURED 

sels. It was a happy day when 
a tired little sea bird came aboard 
his flagship to rest. When he saw 
the bird he knew that land was near. 

Water birds are often 
the first sign of the near¬ 
ness of land in every 
ocean of the world. They nest on 
shore and never fly many miles out 
to sea. They seem to come to meet 
the ships Then he saw what looked 


What 
Friendly 
Little 'Birds! 


KNOWLEDGE 

float ships, while the circling shores 
protect them from wind and waves. 
The harbors that were found by 
early explorers, on our coasts, have 
_ seaport cities on them 

Great Cities today. They are used 
Grow U£ f or the travel and trade 

of the world. One of them—Ha¬ 
vana, which is Spanish for “The 
Harbor’’—is in Cuba in the West 
Indies Islands that Columbus' dis- 






I 


A Fine Land-Locked Harbor 



= Underwood, N. Y. 


This is a picture of Havana Harbor, one of the finest land-locked harbors in the world. You 
know, a land-locked harbor is one that is nearly enclosed by land so that vessels can ride at ease 
even in the fiercest storms that sweep over the waters beyond the protecting barriers. 


| to be a cloud, low down on the wa- 
| ter. It was land. The sandy coast 
| glistened in the sun. If it had been 
| a rocky or wooded shore it would 
| have appeared as dark as a rain 
| cloud. 

Havens of Safety for Ships 

When land is sighted, today, pas- 
| sengers get ready to go ashore. 
| The vessel steams up to a city dock. 
| Columbus could not bring his ships 
| close to the first land he found. In 
| shallow shore waters his vessels 
| would have gone aground on sand 
| bars. If near a rocky coast in a 
| storm his ships would have been 
| wrecked. He looked for a deep 
| river mouth, or a place where the 
| sea had taken a big bite out of the 
| land, making a harbor. In such 
| places the water is deep enough to 


covered. Ships go through a nar- | 
row channel into its wide, land- | 
locked bay. 


One of the Interesting Habits of Islands §| 

Columbus did not know that two i 
big continents, as wide as the ocean 
he had just crossed, lay beyond 
these islands. Rut he thought a 
large body of land must be near. 
Around the edges of the continent 
of Europe from which 
he had come, big and 
little islands hovered 
like chickens around a 
fat mother hen. Most of the islands 
of the world lie near the large 
bodies of land. He and the other 
explorers sailed north and south and 
west of the West Indies Islands that 
fringe our coast. Each one found 
some different part of the mainland 


Big 

Continents 
and Their 
1 ‘Chickens’’ 


8 
















^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiu NORTH AMERICA iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim 


Carmel Bay, California 



= Painted by William Keith © M H Harmon || 

These two pictures illustrate two types of coast. The upper one is a low, sandy shore on the 
H Pacific, the other a rock-bound coast on the Atlantic. M 

^ Most of the sand on the sea shore is made by the pounding to pieces of the rocks by the waves. 

H Is it any wonder that such great rocks as these you see in the lower picture are finally ground |f 
to pieces? The waves sometimes strike with a force of 600 pounds per square foot. Stones three 

1 On the Coast of Maine 1 


8 



Painted by Winslow Homer - - . . Metropolitan Museum 

feet in diameter and weighing over a ton will be hurled against the cliff as swiftly as a strong man 
can throw a pebble. Then the stone rolls back into the water again and again—several times a 
minute. The waves hurl the stone against the rocks until it is ground into the little particles we 
call sand. But most of the work of making sand is done on the surface of the land by the decay 
of rocks along streams, which carry the sand into the sea. 


3 


9 











..I.IIIIIIIIIHIII. rum .. PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw 


| of North or South America. Wher- 
| ever they went they looked for har- 
! bors. 


1 Many Shores of Many Forms 

How they hunted for these safe 
| places for ships ! But along some 
| shores harbors were as scarce as 
| robins in January. Around the 
| Gulf of Mexico, the peninsula of 
| Florida, and far up the eastern 
| shore, the coast was low and flat. 
| The mouths of most of the rivers 
| were choked with sand and mud. 
| Long sandy islands had been piled 

I Find These up near the shore by the 
| Three Tays waves. In the middle 
| of the east coast, three great bays 
| pushed in from the ocean, and deep 
| rivers flowed into them, making 
I harbors. Farther north were many 
| big and little bays, and rivers 
| reached the ocean through sunken 
| valleys, making other fine harbors. 

Through the Gulf of St. Law- 
| rence the ships sailed inland for a 
| thousand miles, up a noble river 
| that got its water from the Great 
| Lakes. North of that lay the half 
| frozen peninsula of Labrador. Ex- 
| plorers beat their way past its rock 
| cliffs and through storm and fog 
| and ice to the inland sea of Hudson 
| Bay. 


A Bit of Good Luck 

You can see that our western 
coast is straighter than the eastern, 
^ , 7 and with fewer bays 

Li rooked . J 

Coasts and and river mouths for 

Straight harbors. It is fortunate 

Sailing that our best coast was 

on the east. The white people lived 
just across the narrow Atlantic 
ocean from it. The English, Span¬ 
ish, Dutch, French and Portuguese 
were the ship builders and traders 
of the world. Our western shores 




fronted an ocean twice as wide; and g 
the stay-at-home yellow and brown | 
races lived on the other side of it. g 
These people trade with us today, | 
and now there are many ships on | 
the Pacific ocean. | 

North America lies between two j 
big oceans on which ships steam i 
Last of AV, and sail. A third great | 

Amundsen frozen ocean joins them | 

on the north, for the waters of the | 
earth are all connected. The warm | 
sea of the Gulf of Mexico cuts half j 
way across the southern end of our | 
continent. What an enormous, ir- | 
regular coast line! It took many | 
men four hundred years to map our j 
shores. The man who finished the | 
task among the frozen islands along | 
our extreme north coast was the | 
brave Norwegian explorer, Roald | 
Amundsen. . 1 


Every Map a Story of Adventure 


You did not know maps were | 
made in that way? The first ones | 
had to be. Bold sailors poked the | 
noses of their vessels into every | 
little bend of our shores. They | 
named the capes, peninsulas and | 
islands, the rivers and bays. They | 
were very careful to mark the good | 
harbors, so that these places where | 
ships could come and go could be | 
found by the people who would § 
want to come to America to make | 
new homes. I 

Maps are puzzling and hard to j 
draw, but you would be ashamed to | 
complain about that when you think | 
of the brave men who first made i 
them. Besides, they help you see | 
and understand earth pictures. Flat | 
Languages outline maps show only | 
the Mafis forms and places. They | 
are just plans of lands | 
and waters. Colored maps are 1 
meant to show how a big continent | 


*.* 


IO 


! 


America as a Bird Sees It 



© The MacMillan Co. 

This relief map of North America helps you to see it as it looks to a bird flying over it—with all 
its mountain streams and valleys beneath. It also shows the depressions in the surrounding waters, 
the continental shelf running out into them, the great river systems and many other features of 
this part of the New World we are discovering. 



IIIIIII!IIIIIII!I!IIIIIIIIIIIIII!IIIII!IIIIIIIIII!II!IIIII!IIIII!IIIIII!IIIIIIIII!IIIIII!IIIIIIIII!II|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||!IIII|||||||I!II||I!IIIIIIIII!!IIIIIII!IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!IIIIIIIIIIIII!IIIIIIII!IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN 

America As a Boy Made It 



A Sixth Grade boy in Council Bluffs, Iowa, made this map of America out of its leadii 
He represented its gold regions with gold foil, lumber regions with little sticks, and then 
places where they grow, you see wheat, corn, oats, oranges (represented by the peel), 
cotton, wool and coffee. ^ 


12 









V 


NORTH AMERICA 

Land Destruction and Land Formation 


8 





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This picture shows the land above and below the ocean at the shore. Like an hour-glass in 
which the sand runs constantly from the higher to the lower level, the soil on the ocean floor is 
being constantly built up at the expense of the mountains near by. A cross section of the ocean 
bottom at the right of the picture shows how it is done. The dark part is the original bed-rock. 
The lighter layers are strata or sediment deposited there by the rivers and the waves. 


| is divided into countries. Relief 

| maps are the most interesting. 
| When you draw a picture of an 
| apple you show, by shadings, that 
| it is round. So, by shadings, moun- 
| tains are made to stand up on a re- 
| lief map. 

| That helps you see a land as an 
| island looks to a bird that flies over 
= ^Corld R* ou see it lifted 

I as a Bird above blue water, with 

| Sees It its sandy beaches and 

| rocky cliffs, its hills and trees, its 
| dancing brooks, its grassy valleys, 
| its pretty town about the harbor and 
| the ships riding at anchor. A relief 
| map makes you want to go ashore 
| and have strange adventures like 
1 Robinson Crusoe. 

Why Rivers Run Into the Sea 

You could find out some things 
| before you landed. Did you notice 


that, on all sides of North America, | 
little and big rivers run down to | 
the oceans? How does water al- I 
ways run? Down hill, of course. | 
So it is as plain as noses on faces | 
that the land must rise from every | 
coast or these rivers would not run | 
into the sea. Small rivers have not | 
run far. From the number of little | 
Theyjust rivers flowing eastward | 
Can't Hell It! into the Atlantic an ex- | 
plorer of any experience would | 
expect to find a long chain of | 
hills, or perhaps mountains, not | 
very far back from the coast. | 
But when such big rivers as j 
the St. Lawrence and Mississippi | 
were found men knew, before they | 
had seen much of it, that America | 
was one of the great land masses of j 
the world. Europe was big and | 
had high, snow-covered mountains, j 
but it had no such rivers as these. I 


:*i 


*: 


13 





1 


I 





PICTURED KNOWLEDGE i 


And the large tributaries that 
flowed into the Mississippi river 
from the east and west had their 
little brook beginnings, no doubt, in 
big and far-away mountain systems. 


between the mud banks they have 
made, into the Gulf of Mexico. 
Several explorers sailed past those 
many mouths of the Mississippi, 
and never knew the great river was 


Lake George in the Adirondacks 



Painted by J. P. Bristow Metropolitan Museum 


The rocks in the Adirondacks indicate that much loftier mountains once existed here. There 
was folding, faulting intrusion of igneous rock, and all this was repeated several times. This 
was long ages ago. Now the mountains are worn to low y er relief by weather and by streams, with 
flat-topped ridges or rounded summits, as the varying rock determines, with such valleys as that 
occupied by Lake George. This valley was carved by a stream and it winds through the moun¬ 
tains, turning to the left behind the long low spur across the lake and then to the right between the 
next spur and the most distant mountain. Glaciers then Widened and deepened this stream val¬ 
ley, by damming it by depositing a moraine and thus forming the lake, which has not been in ex¬ 
istence very long as the earth views time. Most of the slopes are wooded, but those where the 
glacier left no soil are bare. The lake has thickets near the water where the moist soil supports 
them. Thickets like that in the foreground may have harbored many a lurking savage during the 
French and Indian War when Fort William Henry and Fort George were besieged. 


A Model River System 

On your relief map you can find 
this giant tree of water that the 
Indians called “Father of Waters” 
with its top far up in our wide, 
central valley. Mountains wall that 
valley, east and west. The waters 
A Great from their slopes come 
Tree of together in the lowest 

Water part, and cut a deep, 

crooked trough down a gradual 
slope to the sea. There the wide 
river mouths divide, like the spread¬ 
ing roots of a tree. These push out, 


there. It was found by men who 
went overland from Florida, and by 
other men who went westward over 
the Great Lakes and the prairies 
beyond them. There is no harbor 
at the mouth of this kind of a river. 
It took a great deal of hard work 
to clear even one of the many chan¬ 
nels so ships could get up to a city 
that was built on a wide part of the 
river a hundred miles up from the 
Gulf. 

But this is a river system—one 
of the very greatest in the world. 



14 











RMML.T4C .SEA 


OCEAN 


How the Ocean Could Swallow the Land 


r» 


NORTH 
ATLANTIC 
OCEAN; 
27,529 FT 


CERTAIN PARTS 
tUc PACIFIC 
OCEAN 
28,215 FEET 
(OVER S Mites) 


<*«“ ©A.v 




ENGLISH CHANNU 


This diagram shows how the ocean could swallow most of our mountains completely, while the 
peaks of the highest ones would appear as islands above the level of the water. How small the 
world’s greatest buildings look in comparison to the depths of the oceans. 


15 















t^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!ii!!iiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiii!!iiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiniiiiiiiiiiHl* 


The Catskills Seen Through a Mist 



H Painted by Dc Witt Parsliall Metropolitan Museum 


The broad lowland each side of the Hudson is underlaid by weak shales, hence it has been 
worn down to a plain. Within it are low hills. The Catskills, rising steeply in the western part 
of the highland are formed of resistant sandstone and conglomerate. They are really the north¬ 
eastern corner of the Allegheny Plateau, an upland so carved by streams at this point as to sim¬ 
ulate a true mountain topography. You can find both the low, rounded form and the stream- 
carved cliffs in the picture. 


No other one drains such a big, rich 
valley in a temperate climate, where 
so many people can live comfortably 
and do so many kinds of work. 
Aren’t you proud of it? 

Our Eastern Highlands 

That river system and broad val¬ 
ley were possible only because we 
have two mountain systems, far 
apart, along our eastern and west¬ 
ern coasts. You know, from the 
many short rivers that flow into the 
Atlantic, you expected to find a long 
chain of hills or mountains a little 
way back from it. The mountains 
begin just below the Gulf of St. 
Lawrence, near the sea. Farther 
south they are a hundred miles or 
more back from the shore. The 
coastal plain widens toward the 
Gulf of Mexico. From the ocean 
this plain slopes up to a table-land 


that, where it is broadest, is quite 
two hundred miles wide. On the 
eastern edge of this highland a low 
mountain range rolls up, a green, 
wooded billow. Range after range 
lies behind this, with lovely, wa¬ 
tered valleys between. 

These Appalachian, or eastern 
highlands are very old. The ridges 
were once high and jagged, with 
lofty, snow covered peaks. Only in 
one place, Mount Washington, are 
they so high today. They have 
been worn down by rain and wind 
and frost. The valleys are filled in 
with their powdered soil. Mud and 
sand and pebbles have been washed 
down their eastern slope to the 
ocean. That is one reason why the 
Atlantic shore waters, especially in 
the south, are so shallow. A wide, 
high continental shelf has been built 
out, under the water, all along the 


ttiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiuiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

16 






The Mount of the Holy Cross 


© Keystone View Co. 

“From the high plain the iofty, broken ranges of the Rocky “X'.hl’'VasE-fh^ts 8 the'y'w’e”re 
miles higher * * * These are younger mountains than those of the Kast that is, tney were 

lifted much later. Their peaks are high and jagged. Many of them are snow-covered, even in 

-summer/’ celebrated peak of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. It is 

a steep^craggy^ mcmntain, l”io6 feet high. The .great fissures, snow-filled all the year around, 
give it P ’its name. Tourists come every year to enjoy its grandeur and beauty. 


17 








vvllll!ll!llllll!llll!l!lllllllll!!ll!ll!!ll!ll!lll!l!llll!!llllllllllllllll!ll!lll!llllll! PI CT U RED 

| coast, partly by washings from these 
| old mountains and partly by a slow 
| sinking and drowning of the coastal 
| plain. 

The study of land forms will tell 
| you about old and new mountains 
| and rising and sinking coasts. We 
| shall have several interesting things 


KNOWLEDGE liiillllliiiiiiilllliiiiin 

rise on ranges farther west, flow j 
across valleys and cut through g 
ridges where there are deep water s 
gaps. These gaps were used for | 
trails by the Indians, for wagon J 
roads by white colonists, and now it | 
is through them that railroads from | 
the West find their wav over the 1 


Like the Teeth of a Saw 



High young mountains, like this California range, sometimes have a serrated outline. Bare 
mountains, rich in mineral and subjected to great variations of temperature, are most apt to have 
this form. In our temperate climate the surface of the rock is often cooled rapidly, while the in¬ 
terior is still hot. Because of these changes in temperature the rock breaks and splits and the 
outer layers of weaker rock are weathered away. This leaves the upper peaks sharp and irregular 
and covers the lower slopes, like that in the foreground of the picture, with a mass of stony rock 
waste which geologists call talus. 

“The western bank of the great river (the Mississippi) rises to a wide, dry, treeless plain tnat 
lies a mile ahove sea level From this h'gh plain the lofty, broken ranges of the Rocky Moun¬ 
tains spring like a wall, two miles higher.” 


to tell you about this continental 
shelf in connection with fish, har¬ 
bors, oysters, summer resorts, bath¬ 
ing beaches and a railroad that has 
been built over water. 

Highlands Form Water Partings 

But now we must tell you more 
about the Appalachian highlands. 
The short rivers that flow from them 
to the Atlantic, rise on the most 
eastern ridge. The few longer ones 


mountains to seaboard cities. On 
its western slope the highlands 
fall away in rough foothills, mak¬ 
ing a wide country of wild 
beauty. Every hillside is musical 
with springs. Out of every glen 
bubbles a brook. Countless little 
singing creeks feed the larger 
streams that flow away across park¬ 
like slopes to the Mississippi. This 
highland region, sloping two ways, 
like the roof of a house, makes a 






18 




: 


Climbing a Wall-Like Peak of the Rockies 


The lofty broken 
ridges sfiring like 
a wall 



.. Thp western bank of the great river (the Mississippi) rises to a wide, dry, treeless plain that 
lies a mne abovrsea level From this high plain the lofty, broken ranges of the Rocky Mountains 
spring like a wall, two miles higher. 


19 











water parting for the continent. As 
it wore away it filled the lowlands 
as its bases, building out the coastal 
plain, and rais¬ 
ing the level of 
the central val¬ 
ley to the Mis¬ 
sissippi. 

From the 
western bank of the great 
river the land begins to climb. 
Across swampy tracts and up grassy 
prairies it rises to a wide, dry, tree¬ 
less plain that lies a mile above sea 
level. That is higher than all but 
a few peaks of the Eastern high¬ 
lands. And from this high plain 
the lofty, broken ranges of the 
Rocky Mountains spring like a wall, 
two miles higher. On your relief 
map, that mountain wall looks like 
a backbone to the continent. It 
rears a great crest north and south 
from the Arctic Ocean to Central 
America. These are younger moun¬ 
tains than those of the east—that 
is they were lifted much later. 
Their peaks are high and jagged. 
Many of them are snow covered, 
even in summer. 

West of these great ranges, up¬ 
lifted lands fill the western third 
of the continent, in its broad parts, 
and the entire narrowed southern 
end, between the Pacific ocean and 
the Gulf of Mexico. Separate 
ranges and knots of mountains are 
scattered over a high, semi-desert 
plain. Big rivers rise among snowy 
peaks far inland, but few branches 
join them and they do not water 
wide vallevs. To west and south 
and east they cut deep gorges or 
canyons to the sea, or to the Missis¬ 
sippi in the central valley. 

The western edge of these high¬ 
lands is bordered by still newer 
ranges of mountains, with spurred 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

ridges, sharp snow peaks thiee j 
miles high, and old volcanoes, or | 
smoking mountains. These ranges g 




fall to lovely | 
watered valleys j 
that are shut j 
in, on the west, j 
by lower coast j 
ranges. Then j 
the land drops down a j 
steep, green slope into deep g 
water. The highlands have not j 
been there long enough to have | 
worn down and built out a wide | 
continental shelf. There are few | 
sand beaches. There are good har- | 
bors only where rivers have broken [ 
through water gaps, or the ocean | 
has cut bays into the land. | 

America’s Three Water Partings and 

Six Slopes M 

The eastern and western high- j 
lands make two great water part- | 
ings and four slopes. The two | 
short slopes fall toward the oceans. | 
The two long ones meet in the cen- | 

tral valley. | 

There is still another water part- | 
ing, making two more slopes. Find | 
the little beginnings of the Missis- j 
sippi River west of the Great Lakes. | 
That river flows south. The Great | 
Lakes flow east into the St. Law- | 
rence. Just above these two, a net | 
work of little lakes and streams | 
form the Nelson River that runs | 
northeast into Hudson Bay. The § 
Mackenzie River rises on the east | 
slope of the Rockies. But when it | 
reaches the region above all these | 
streams, it turns north into the Arc- | 
tic ocean. 

All about the heads of these riv- | 
ers the land is so low that much | 
water lies in marshes and strings of j 
little lakes. Still, there is a rise, | 
a broad, low, broken range of hills, | 
all that is left of a poor, old, worn- j 

it? 


20 


♦ ♦ 


NORTH AMERICA 

out mountain system. It is called 
the Laurentian Highlands. You 
can trace it, by the way the streams 
run, and by little bordering lakes 
eastward to Labrador, between 
Hudson Bay and the St. Lawrence 




River. West of the 
Bay it turns north 
to Great Bear 
Lake. This makes 
a long, bent hilly 
region raised high 
enough for a 
water parting 
From it the land 
slopes north to the 
Arctic Ocean and 
Hudson Bay and 
south to the Gulf 
of Mexico. 

The highlands 
slope south, too. 
The Appalachian 
highlands fall to 
hills long before 


They came up as a long, curving 
chain of islands resting on a 
drowned table-land. That was lifted 
and the land was pushed up and 
folded into ranges and peaks. Next 
the eastern highlands appeared in 


Apples, People and the Earth Wrinkle the Same Wa F and ’ I 


when They Get Old 



If 


long afterward, 
the western, with 
two thousand 
miles of ocean be¬ 
tween them. The 
Gulf of Mexico 
flowed right 
through to the 
Arctic Ocean. 

Very slowly the 
central valley was 
lifted and filled 
in, and the coastal 
plains and conti¬ 
nental shelf built 
out. Our newest, 
western coast is 
still rising, the 


an apple is left in a cool place it shrivels 

they reach the a° d withers when it gets old instead of rotting, older eastern coast 
J The inner, mealy part dries and shrinks, and the . . 

Gulf. Lower and skin wrinkles over it. The skin on people’s faces is Sinking, Very 

wrinkles, when they get old, and the same thing 1 . 

lower the crest of happens to the earth. The hot rock mass at SlOWly. 

, -p - . , the center cools and contracts while the crust 

the Rockies, the folds itself up into mountain ranges and sinks Weather 

. ,11 , i , • i into ocean beds. If this withered apple were j i-i* 

table-land behind millions of times as big as it is. the wrinkles and L-limate 

it and the coast would be like our Rockies and A ?P alachians The size of a 
ranges sink, from Central Mexico to 
the rough hills of Panama. Isn't 
that lucky? That isthmus is less than 
fifty miles wide, but if the mountains 
had been high there we never could 
have cut that canal across it. 

How America Came Up Out of the Sea 

If you have read the story of 
the land you know that all land was 
once under the sea. America has 
risen and sunk a number of times. 

Finally some lands were able to stay 
above water. Which parts that are 
now above the sea, do you suppose 
appeared first? Why those old 
Laurentian Highlands, of course. 


The size of 
continent, its mountains, plains and 
inland waters all have much to do 
with its climate. Read our story of 
“The Wind and the Weather.” Most 
of our winds come from the west. 
The water that they pick up in the 
Pacific Ocean is dropped on the coast 
ranges and valleys in rain, and on 
the higher mountain peaks in snow. 
There is little moisture for the table¬ 
lands, the Rockies and the plains east 
of them. The winds are cooled by the 
mountains they blow over, and they 
gather speed in sliding down the 
long slope into the central valley. 
Thev pick up more moisture in the 
Gulf of Mexico and the Great Lakes 




V 


21 


I 






..iiiiiiiiiiii .. PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiumuimimiiiiminuimumiiiiuiuiiiumiiiiiuiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiuiiinmi^ 



to water the eastern half of the con¬ 
tinent. The winds blow right over 
the low, eastern highlands to the 
coast. 

If the low mountains were on the 
western instead of the eastern 
coast there would be a different 
weather story to tell. And if those 
Laurentian hills were still high 
mountains they would shut the Arc¬ 
tic cold away from the lower cen¬ 
tral valley in winter, and keep 
the summer heat from going 
far north. 

An island, washed all 
around by the same sea, 
is everywhere much 
alike in its climate, 
plants, people and 
the work they do. 

But a continent is 
bordered by warm 
and cold 
waters. It 
takes days 
for one storm 
to blow over 
it, and the 
storm is 
changed by 
the kinds of 
land it trav¬ 
els over. The 
continent has 
room for a 
great variety 
of coasts, 
mountains, 
valleys, riv¬ 
ers, plants, animals, people and cli¬ 
mate; many kinds of soil, forests, 
mines and other things for people to 
work with. 


When America Was a New World 

We haven’t told you anything 
about the people of America or the 
work they do. We wanted you to 
see our continent as it was when 
Columbus came. Beautiful, wild 
and lonely, it was stored with a 
wealth of useful things that had 
never been used. Then the white 
people came here to make their 
homes. Most of them were poor, 
but they had their strength and 
skill and tools, and their habits 
of industry. 

They turned the vir¬ 
gin soil up to the sun 
and sowed the seeds of 
food plants. They 
cut down the for¬ 
ests, laid out 
roads, and 
bridged 
streams, 
built towns 
a n cl mill s, 
ships and 
railroads and 
schools, and 
opened the 
mines. They 
c o n q u e red 
every diffi- 
c u 11 y, won 
their free¬ 
dom from 
the old world, 
raised up 
governments, 
pushed west¬ 
ward across three thousand miles of 
mountains, waterways and plains, 
and traded with all the peoples of 
the earth. 


America 

Symbolic Group by Daniel C. French at the New York 

Customs House. 




22 














SEEING THE ^ 
WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE 

THE NEW ENGLAND STATES 


Land of the Pilgrim’s Pride 





- V . 








>i* 


* 


. w. 

>, - i -•* 


Vx -'. ! 3 « /• •'.; 

**>■•■■-, •.•**■> ■■. ■ *.• 7 4 iv '"- 

^ V*- ' . % , 

■ T'-" ■ ■■■ • " -it,- 

. ■ i'- 'Ai fc-v >v. "' V T’'\ : .’•,■■ 

• •■’ ■• >' . • •; * -■ 

v ,. . ■„ ■ ■*' ' ' .. v ' . 1 

/ >''■•- 

, ‘*T. " <X "'*? '!.<■' 

' . > ! ■ Tf. 


>/' v 

:V ; ' 

v :■■ - J 


v. ■&: 




Plymouth Rock, the First Pilgrim 

This is a glacial boulder, or erratic, brought by the continental ice sheet. The 
name erratic, meaning “wanderer,” indicates that Plymouth Rock has been trans¬ 
ported from some other place. Erratics are usually of a different kind of rock from 
the ledges in the region where they now rest. It seems appropriate that this 
“earlier pilgrim” should have been here to welcome the Pilgrim Fathers in 1620. 


T H I S is 
the story 



of a country 
that was 
born poor 
and became 
rich and famous. 

Countries are much like 
boys. Those that have warm 
climates and rich soils, so that 
livings can be made too easily, are 
apt to amount to little. Their 

Hard Work P e0 P le beconle lazy. 
Good for Boy But where the weath- 
and Country er j g co ld and the Soil 

sterile, people must work hard to 
live in comfort. And just being 
obliged to use their hands, minds 


clever, 
eral such 
world. One 


and courage 
makes people 
wonderfully 
brave, indus¬ 
trious, ambi¬ 
tious and 
There are sev- 
countries in the 
called ‘‘Brave 



Little Holland/’ 


The Settlement of New England 

New England is the poor boy 
section of the United States. The 
Puritans settled these five small 
states that lie away up in the bleak 
northeastern corner of the coun¬ 
try. You know what determined, 









ram 





23 


! 







































































































^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 




courageous people they were. Had 
they not been, they would have be¬ 
come discouraged and gone back 
across the ocean. 

These states form a small, com¬ 
pact group, that, together with the 


is mountainous. The Green Moun¬ 
tains and Berkshire Hills fill most 
of the land west of the Connecticut 
River. The White Mountains, a 
knot of snow-capped peaks in New 
Hampshire, trail away in low ranges 


The New England Coast After a Storm 



This is a rocky, New England coast, after a storm. The low, sullen ground swell of the ocean 
is making small waves which foam around the bases of the sea cliffs. Such a coast is likely to be 
made up of durable rock. This forms headlands, but there is also weaker rock which the waves 
carve out, producing coves and indentations. With the daily rise and fall of the tide the zone of 
wave attack is shifted upward and downward. The undertow and alongshore currents carry away 
the material washed off from the cliffs and headlands so that new surfaces are continually bared for 
wave attack. The rock is crossed by invisible cracks, known as joints. Along such joint cracks the 
waves work more effectually, carving out large rocks such as that in the middle distance, and 
finally wearing them down to skerries, like the small rock off the farthest point. Storm quiet is 
never perfect quiet on such a rugged coast, for it is by the ceaseless play of the water in times 
like this, as well as during a great storm, that waves carve out such a rugged coast and produce 
the hidden reefs so dreaded by mariners. 


| sea-bordering lands of Canada, is 
| almost an island. To their west the 
| Hudson River and Lake Champlain 

1 How "Nature make a nearly unbroken 
| Made New deep waterway to the 
| England St. Lawrence River. 

| When all that region was not so 
| high out of the sea as it is today, it 
| was a mountainous island. It lies in 
| the northern end of the Appalachian 
| Highlands, where the mountains 
| come nearest the seashore. 

See how much of New England 


north, south and east. Maine is an j 
upland country, above which rise j 
hilly ridges and rounded cones. | 
While the Connecticut River flows | 
down a natural valley between | 
mountain ranges, the rivers of Maine | 
have cut their own beds deep into | 
a rocky tableland. The banks of 
these rivers, and the ridges between 
them, extend out into the ocean. 
The coast of Maine is fringed with 
rocky capes and islands. Mount 
Desert Island is a knot of low moun- 




24 















^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin NEW ENGLAND STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiii^ 

I The Ancient Ice Sheet I 





- 


r ** «tao« or run & 

~~* s '£T' ,nv T ** *“•>«* * 

^WHBn gsa 


The white area in northeastern United States represents the Great Ice Sheet or Continental 
Glacier which covered this region during the Glacial Period. It changed the topography, caused 
lakes and waterfalls, and left new soil—level and fertile south of the Great Lakes, stony and unpro¬ 
ductive in much of New England. At an earlier epoch the dark-colored area was glaciated, but 
here the deposits are now greatly modified by weathering and by stream erosion. In Wisconsin 
and adjacent states is a driftless area which was completely surrounded by the ice sheet but never 
covered. 


tains that come down 
in steep cliffs to the 
sea. 

Would you be sur¬ 
prised to learn that 
all those islands were 
mce a part of the 
hilly mainland! The 
bays that run into the 
land were valleys. In 
another story we will 
tell you why those hill 
tops happen to be out 
in the sea, and the 
valleys to be drowned. 

Then vou will under- 

* 

stand why New England has so 
many deep bay and river-mouth 
harbors. 

How the Glacier Took off New England’s 

Coat 

You know that soil formed on 


mountain slopes is 
easily washed down 
into the streams by 
rain and melting 
snow. In a country 
of such old, worn 
down highlands as 
New England, all the 
river valleys and the 
small coastal plain of 
the south- 
eastern 
part 
should have been filled 
in deep with fine rich 
earth. Very likely 
they were, at one time, but now the 
soil is thin and poor, nearly every¬ 
where. The coastal plain is sandy 
and heaped with gravelly hills. All 
the lowlands are strewn with peb¬ 
bles, rocks and big boulders. Some- 


Mr. 


Glacier’s Autograph on 
His Calling Card 



These are scratches made beneath 
a glacier by rocks imbedded in the 
ice. They are fine, parallel marks, 
engraved in the ledges of solid rock 
by the cutting tools with which the 
moving glacier is armed. If there 
are two sets of striae or “scratches” 
at right angles, as is the case here, 
it shows that the glacier moved 
aver the ledge at two different 
periods or that it may have changed 
direction during different stages of 
the same glacial period. 


VFhere Did 

the Rich 
Soil Go? 




25 





PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 




thing happened, thousands of years 
ago, to rob New England of a good 
top coat, if it had one, and give it 
a poor one. 


covering much of the northern 
world, in Europe, Asia and Amer¬ 
ica. It covered Canada and came far 
down into the United States. 


The Glacier of the Lakes 


Down to Bed Rock 


How the Glacier Writes Its “Calling Cards’’ 


n v 


Men who know a great deal about 
Geography can tell exactly what 
happened by 
looking at the 
map of New 
England. The 
first thing they 
notice is the 
many lakes 
scattered all 
over the north¬ 
ern and west- 
ern parts. 

There are 
sheets of water, 
from t i 
ponds to 
Lake Cham¬ 
plain. Maine 
alone has 
nearly two 
thousand big 
and little lakes. 

They are strung 

along a network of aimless streams 
that wander over marshes, in the 
hollows of hills, before 
they decide to flow away 
into proper rivers. Those 
waters were left in rock basins, or in 
old river valleys that had dams built 
across them by a glacier. 


In the glacial age the ice was so 
thick that the land was buried to the 

tops of the 


big 



This 

sheet 


This is a crevasse in a glacier, formed by the split¬ 
ting of the top layers of ice. The crunching and 
grinding of the ice at these crevasses, with the help 
of the rocky waste being carried along, carves and 
scratches the rocks in the path of the glacier. 


Secret 
The Lakes 
Tell 


highest moun¬ 
tains of New 
England. Ice, 
like water and 
snow, spreads 
and becomes 
level on top. 
vast ice 
filled all 
the valleys. As 
it moved slowly 
southward it 
scraped the bed 
beneath it, and 
the mountain 
slopes, bare of 
soil, down to 
bed rock. Then 
it broke off 
rocks. The bot¬ 
tom of the gla¬ 
cier was filled with stones. The loose 
ones were ground to sand and gravel. 
Those that were held fast had their 
faces scratched and flattened and 
smoothed into pebbles and boulders. 

In New England the glacier ex¬ 
tended to the sea shore. Just such 


icebergs as come down into the 


The Creeping Field of Ice 

A glacier is a river, or great field 
of slowly moving ice. Of course you 
know that there is ice all 


North Atlantic from Greenland to¬ 
day, broke from the cliff-like front 

How the GJa- of this old g lacier > float- 


Tig Nigh tea ft 

the Earth around the North Pole. 
Once Wore field 0 f i ce that never 

melts covers most of Greenland. 
At one time this polar ice cap 
was much larger than it is today, 


cier Droftfted 
Cafte Cod 


ed out into the ocean 
and melted. The soil 
and stones it had brought down were 
dropped into the sea. So much ma¬ 
terial was carried out that sandy, 
rock-strewn islands were built up. 
Even Long Island and the hook-like 




*• 


26 








IpiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiH NEW ENGLAND STATES iiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

How New England Soil Was Made 


The mass of rounded pebbles in the bed of this stream will be made into soil by being ground 
and washed together. The sharp edges of the stones have already been worn away. A great deal 
of New England’s stony, barren soil was made in this way. 

Granite Eggs with Cracking Shells 


Rocks are like hard boiled eggs. They are in layers covered by an outer shell. When the tem¬ 
perature changes suddenly, the outer layer is apt to cool and contract more quickly than the 
interior. This makes it crack, and peel off like the shell of a hard boiled egg. Some of the granite 
rocks in the picture are just splitting off their outer shells, others have almost weathered away. 







£lllllllllll!!lllllllll!llll!IIIIIIIIIIIIM PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


Model of Southern New England 



The ancient mountains of Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut are now gone, worn 
down to a “peneplain,” which means “almost a plain.” Within this peneplain are broad lowlands, 
as in the Connecticut Valley, where sheets of lava form such isolated hills as West Rock at New 
Haven or Mt. Holyoke and Mt. Tom in Massachusetts. There are also limestone-floored valleys, as 
in the Berkshire Hills. Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket are different from most of 
New England, being parts of the coastal plain. 


| peninsula of Cape Cod were heaped 
| up in that way. 

Then, as the northern world be- 
| came warmer, the glacier melted 
| along its front and slowly moved 
| back. As it melted, the coastal plain 
| and valleys were filled with glacial 
I tvti .1 drift. Gravel hills and 

I Why the 

H Glacier Bach - ridges were piled up. 
| ed Away Water was left in the 

| hollows that had been scooped out 
| and in valleys that had been closed 
| by dams. As we go around the 
| world together, you will find lake 
| regions in many northern countries. 
| If you are a New England 
| “Yankee” you will be good at 
| “guessing” things. The five Great 
| Lakes that lie between Canada and 
| the United States were made in a 
| long, wide, deeo valley by that old 
| glacier. They lie in the middle of a 


tv 


great region of smaller lakes. 

How do we know all this? There 
are glaciers on earth today. When 
we get around on the northwest 
coast of America, we can find some 
live ones and study 
them. In that way men 
have found out how the 
great ice sheets that are gone must 
have behaved. By the time the 
Puritans came to America, the 
glacier had been gone so long that 
enough new soil to support a dense 
growth of trees had been formed on 
the highlands. And a thin layer 
had been washed down and spread 
over the river valleys. 

It was because of this glacier that 
the Pilgrims found Plymouth Rock, 
and countless other big and little 
rocks, on a low, sandy coast. The 
huge granite boulder on which the 


New Glaciers 
that Tell 
Old Stories 





a 


28 











NEW ENGLAND STATES 


Pilgrims landed was broken from 
the White Mountains of New Hamp¬ 
shire. The soil of eastern Massa- 

Massachusetts cllUSettS WES ES full of 
Like a stones as a good mince 

Mmce Pie! pi e G f ra isins. It took 

a man from one to three months of 
hard work to clear an acre of 
ground of rocks so a plow could be 
used. The fields were fenced with 
the stones that were dug out. And 
even when cleared the sandy soil 
was so poor that the Indians put a 
fat codfish in every hill of corn to 
fertilize it. 

How the Glacier Made Business Men 

Your Geography will tell you 
that there are some good valley and 
marsh shorelands in New England, 
where apples, potatoes, onions, to¬ 
bacco and hay can be grown, and 
slopes where dairy cows find pasture. 


But New England cannot grow all 
the farm crops the people need. 

Factories Not The y are obliged to do 
Farms for other things to make 
New England mcm ey, and buy most of 

their food. That glacier decided 
that New England never could be a 
fine farming country. 

Even if the soil had been good, 
the climate of these states was found 
to be too cold for many of the food 
plants to do well. New England 
Why New does not lie as far north 
England as does the much warm- 

Is So Cold er country of old Eng¬ 
land in Europe. But it fronts on 
the very cold waters that flow down 
from the Arctic ocean, and it lies 
in the track of the continental 
storms that sweep from the west and 
go howling out to sea. Indeed, New 
England catches bad weather from 
three directions. Tropical rain 


A New England Drumlin 


Drumlins are deposits of soil formed under a glacier. They are gently rounded hills, as you see 
he° The shorte? steeper slope faces the direction from whtch the glacer was flowmg. Can you 
tell why? There are many drumlins in New England. 


















Mu 


Mi 


PICTURED 


KNOWLEDGE 



storms come up from the West In- The furs were soon gone from 
dies; and cold gales, with blinding their small forest region. A moun- 
snows come down from Labrador. tain wall was at their backs, and 

they had no great 

A Vermont Marble Quarry inland waterway 

to the west as the 
French had in 
Canada. Besides, 
the Puritans were 
u n w i 11 i n g to go 
into the woods 
with the Indians, 
as the French did. 
They wanted to 
live with their 
families, in com¬ 
fortable houses, 
near churches and 
schools. And there 
were no such 
quantities of fish 
in the neighbor- 
ing waters as 
there were on the 
Grand Banks of 
N ewfoundland. 
To go up there to 
fish they would 
have to build 
boats, big and 
stout enough for a 
crew of fishermen to stay out all 
summer. 

The Building of the Ships 

These English Puritans were nat¬ 
ural ship builders and sailors, and 
they had plenty of timber in the for¬ 
ests. They swarmed 
into the snowy woods of 
Maine in th e winter. 
They cut tall pine trees for masts 
and hardwoods for ship timbers and 
lumber. The logs were rolled down 
to frozen lakes and rivers, and 
floated to sawmills at water falls, on 
the spring thaw. 

The glacier had made fine falls in 


© Keystone View Co. 

The geographies tell us that “Vermont is famous for its beautiful mar¬ 
ble.'’ Here is a marble quarry at Proctor, Vermont—the largest single 
quarry opening in the world. 


Winters are long and cold, with 
great depths of snow. The summers 
are short and delightfully cool. 

The Puritans knew they could not 
make money by farming. They 
worked small farms to feed their 
families and animals. By catching 
d • • / fish and dredging - for 

New England shell fish in the shore 
Industries waters, making maple 

sugar, gathering cranberries on 
Cape Cod, and cutting hay for their 
animals on the salt marshes, they 
managed to get enough to eat. They 
lived in villages, and many men 
worked together at fur trading, fish¬ 
ing and lumbering. 


‘Putting the 
Glacier’s Falls 
to VFork 



= 







= 





| 

I 


| 




= 

1 

= 


1 








NEW ENGLAND STATES 

all the rivers. In melting back it 
stopped in some places, perhaps for 
many years, when there was a long 
cold spell. Where- 




whale oil. They took furs, lum¬ 
ber and lamp oil to England, and 
cured fish and oil to colonies farther 


ever it paused for 
any length of 
time, it dropped a 
ridge of stones 
and gravel along 
its front. New 
rivers, in making 
channels to the 
sea, after the ice 
age, had to flow 
over these glacial 
drift dams. Most 
of the New Eng¬ 
land rivers have 
several such dams 
and water falls. 

Saw and grist 
mills were built at 
these falls, so the 
wheels would be 
turned by the 
water power. 

Towns and big 
m a n u facturing 
cities grew up 
near the falls. See 
how many cities 
are scattered along the Merrimac, the 
Connecticut and other rivers. All of 
the older New England towns are on 
seaports or rivers. The falls never 
lack water. Snow and rain are plen¬ 
tiful, and the glacial lakes and 
streams that feed the rivers are stor¬ 
age tanks for water. 

With plenty of timber, with wa¬ 
terfalls to turn sawmills, and with 
good harbors and ship building 
D ^ yards, the Puritans were 
for the soon on the sea with 

Busy Shifs good boats. They went 

up to the Grand Banks to fish. Next 
they built stout whaling vessels and 
went up into the Arctic ocean for 


Removing the Marble from the Quarry 


© Keystone View Co. 

This picture shows how the huge blocks of marble are taken out of the 
quarry. 


south. In a few years they were 
trading all along the coast, from the 
West Indies to Labrador and back. 
Their boats were always loaded, 
both ways. They brought sugar 
from Havana; corn, pork and to¬ 
bacco from Virginia; clothing, tools, 
farm animals, furniture and books 
from England. They outfitted the 
whalers and the fishing fleets for 
long voyages. 

New England a Big Corner Store 

You see, New England lay mid¬ 
way between the settlements of the 
north and south, and it is pushed 
out into the ocean, hundreds of miles 




31 















Mi 

♦#l 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Carving Designs in Marble 


This workman is chiselling out a 
pattern in marble with a com¬ 
pressed air chisel. The chisel works 
on the same principle as the drill 
the dentist uses to clean out a cav¬ 
ity in your teeth—by the force of 
the air pumped through the rub¬ 
ber tube. 



I 


© Keystone View Co 


toward the old world. It is a great 
advantage for a merchant to have a 
corner store, with doors on two 

A Comer streets. New England 
Store with is a sort of corner store 
Many Doors w hi c h many ships are 

obliged to pass. And it has many 
doors, or seaports. Boston, Port¬ 
land and Providence are wide doors. 
Many of the largest ocean vessels 
come into their harbors at a time, to 
load and unload. And there are 
countless smaller harbors for fishing 
boats, coastwise vessels and ship 
yards. It was plain to those sea¬ 
faring colonists that New England 
was a fine country for trading; and 
that all those water falls should be 
set to work, making things to sell. 

What should they make? “That/’ 
as the little bov said, “was the puz¬ 
zle of it.” They had nothing to 
make things out of besides trees. 
$ ou £ Fish needed only to be 

Sprang the smoked and salted. 

Factories There was no market 

for their fine building stones, slate 
and marble, as there is today. They 
could not grow much wheat. They 


had no sheep. The trading vessels 
brought cotton from the southern 
colonies, wool from England and 
Spain, hemp from countries on the 
Baltic Sea for rope making. Every 
town had its tannery for turning 
hides into leather. When iron was 
found in the bogs it was smelted in 
charcoal furnaces. New England 
was one of the first countries in the 
world to make cloth, shoes, iron, 
rope and other things on machines 
run by water power. 

The people were in training for 
running factories for a century or 
more. They had done everything 
they could for themselves. Every 
man had a workshop on his farm 
and did his own “tinkering.” He 

A Country mended his tools, his 
Full of plows, his boats and 

Tinkers nets; shod his horses; 

cobbled his shoes. When iron was 
first made, all the nails were ham¬ 
mered out in small forges, by men 
and boys, on the farms. Salt was 
e-vap-or-ated from sea water; hats 
were felted of beaver fur; tar and 
turpentine were made in ev.ery lum- 




= 


I 




♦,* 

♦♦ 


32 











Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillilll!lllll!lllllllllllllll!!lllll!lllllllllllllllll!l!llll!lllll!lll|||||||||||||||||||||||||il!lllllll!ll||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||lllllll|||||||||||||||l!l|||||^ 

A Massachusetts Granite Quarry 


© Underwood & Underwood 

The deep pit is a granite quarry and the cloud of white smoke has come from a blast, just set off. 
The smooth rock faces are the surfaces of joint planes—natural breaks in the rock due . e 
shrinkage that accompanied the cooling of this originally molten rock. They aid in the quarrying, 
but cut up the granite so that very large blocks of it cannot be taken out. Granite is an exceed¬ 
ingly resistant, crystalline rock. 


*; 


33 

















si 



PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


ber camp from the sap of the pitch 
pine. 

The women were just as clever 
and industrious as the men. A spin¬ 
ning wheel and loom were in 


thing from a distance. Even coal 
has to be brought from Pennsyl¬ 
vania to make steam, for there is 
water power for only a third of the 
mills. But a greater proportion of 

Drying Gloucester Codfish 


© Keystone View Co. 

Gloucester, Massachusetts, is a good harbor and a fishing port. Here are hundreds of codfish 
drying in the sun. 


every kitchen. Flax was grown, and 
sheep pastured in,the stony fields. 

They wove cloth for 
from Little household use, cloth to 
Beginnings se ll and sail-cloth for the 

boats, all on hand looms. 

Do you wonder that the ankees 

of New England became the clever¬ 
est inventors and shrewdest traders 
of the world? It is said still that 
Massachusetts, Rhode Island and 
Connecticut keep the patent office in 
Washington busy. 

A People Who Make Everything 

Two other sections of the United 
States do more manufacturing than 

R aw M«te- New En S land does ' but 

rial from All that is because they are 
the World larger and have raw 

materials of their own to work up. 
New England has to bring every- 


the people work at manufacturing 
than in any other part of the coun¬ 
try, and a greater variety of things 
are made. 

Cotton is brought from the south¬ 
ern states; wool from the west, and 
from Australia and South Africa; 
hides from the western packing 
cities and South America; rubber 
from Brazil; iron from Pittsburgh; 
gold and silver from far-away 
mines, to keep the countless factories 
busy. Below the mountains the 
country hums with mills. People 
set their clocks by the noon whistles. 
The land is netted with railroads. 
The harbors swarm with shipping. | 
Boston is the dis-trib'-ut-ing center. | 
Railroads run out from this big sea- | 
port like spokes from three-quar- 1 
ters of a wheel. A short haul takes j 
materials and fetches finished goods | 




*# 


34 
















iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim^ NEW ENGLAND STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiii™ 

In the New Hampshire Woods 


These are French Canadians, true woodsmen, “getting out” big pine logs in the New Hampshire 
woods. They are loading a big log on to the pair of “bob” sleds which already has two other logs 
chained to it. The logs will be hauled over many miles of bumpy logging road to a railroad. Or 
they may be dragged to the bank of a stream which will float them to a sawmill. 


from the mill towns. 

The Geography will tell you what 
is made in the greatest quantities, 
and what manufactures certain 
cities are noted for. Every kind of 
cotton and woolen goods and some 
silk is made. Boots and shoes keep 
the people of entire cities busy. 
Lumber, furniture and wood-pulp 
paper are made in the forest dis- 

Some Things tricts - The drawing of 
New England wire for telegraph, tele- 
Makes phone, trolley lines and 

cables is an old and important busi¬ 
ness. Every kind of small hard¬ 
ware, kitchen ware, knives and tools 
are made; bicycles, typewriting and 
sewing machines and factory ma¬ 
chinery. Rubber goods and tires, 
watches and clocks, jewelry and 
silverware, automobiles and motor 
boats, fire arms and ammunition, 
pianos and other musical instru¬ 
ments are among the many things 


that are made. Something new and j 
ingenious is put on the market every | 
day. | 

aa 

A Country of Great Men 

Busy people like these are the j 
very ones that find time to do the | 
things that help others. These New | 
Englanders built roads, bridges, j 
schools and churches. They fought j 
the earliest and hardest battles of j 
the Revolution. They built uni- | 
versities and published good books. | 
Boston was long the center of liter- | 
ature and learning, and New Eng- | 
land bred our earliest and best poets, j 
essayists and story writers. It has | 
given us great thinkers, religious | 
leaders, statesmen and military | 
heroes. No other part of the coun- | 
try has so many places of literary | 
and historical interest. J 

The country is proud of New | 
England and its brave story. Many | 



35 





PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iilllllinil^ 


In a Maine Lumber Camp 



© Underwood & Underwood, 


Into the River They Go! 


Lumbermen go in¬ 
to camp in the fall 
and stay in the snow¬ 
bound woods all win¬ 
ter, far away from 
cities and civilization. 
It is a rough life, 
with the stinging cold 
and the snow always 
to face. In the larg¬ 
er camps there is 
usually a cook, and a 
“cookee” or helper, 
both men, who work 
early and late pre¬ 
paring food for the 
hungry men. There 
are no fresh table lux¬ 
uries, for a stock of 
supplies has to be laid 
in, in the fall, large 
enough to last the 


people travel 
far to see it. A 
sea-washed, 
m o untainous, 
and glaciated 
land is always 
beautiful. The 
glacier made 
the lakes and 
waterfalls of 
this region. Tt 



© hey stone View Co. 

This is how the logs are rolled into the streams 
that float them to the mill. They are unloaded on a 
steep bank, from which they roll headlong into the 
stream below. Sometimes they get caught, or 
“jammed.” and it is a dangerous job for the lumber¬ 
man who has to loosen them. 


whole winter through. E 
The men sleep in E 
rough “bunks” built j§ 
like the berths in a E 
Pullman sleeper one E 
above the other. The f§ 
men at the right are fj 
sitting in them. The E 
buildings are roughly E 
constructed of logs H 
and do not always E 
furnish all the pro- = 1 
tection from the wea- = 
ther that is desirable, ^ 
because they are only = 
temporary. One win- || j 
ter in a locality some- |j 
times exhausts the E 
timber available there E 
and new quarters = 
have to be built for E 
the next winter. 


piled up the | 
southern is- | 
lands, and the j 
“drumlins” or | 
drift hills. It | 
rounded the j j 
domes of the | 
mountains that j 
are called | 
“monadnocks. ” | 
It sculptured | 


♦J 

♦ 4 













NEW ENGLAND STATES 


*♦ 


the peaks of the White Mountains, 
and carved the descents for the cas¬ 
cades. 

Tourists love to sail along the 
rock-fringed coast of Maine, linger 
on the cliffs of Mount Desert Island, 
or camp and fish in the lake-dotted 
pine woods. By cog-wheel railway 
they go up to the resort hotels on 
Mount Washington, the highest 
peak of the long Appalachian High¬ 
lands. Down the terraced valley of 
the Connecticut is four hundred 
miles of beauty, of wooded slopes 
and dropping falls. Thousands of 
city dwellers have summer palaces 
on the cliffs above the sea at New¬ 
port, cottages on the islands and 
beaches, or country homes in the 
lovely Berkshire Hills. 

If you should ever go to New 
England you would not know what 
to see first—Bunker Hill monument 
in Boston, or the new public library 
Things of with i t s wonderful 
Interest mural, or wall paint- 

Everywhere ings; the near-by homes 

of our dear poets; or the biggest cot¬ 
ton mills in the world. Most people 


cross Massachusetts Bay to see 
quaint, sleepy old Provincetown, 
just inside the sandy hook of Cape 
Cod, where the Pilgrims first 
dropped the anchor of the May¬ 
flower. There they find the ‘‘old 
salts” of Yankee sailor and fisher¬ 
men, who speak of New England as 
‘‘down east.” They go up to Salem 
to see the custom house of East 
India days, and the old whaling 
ports of Marblehead and Gloucester. 
Then down to Plymouth, an hour 
south of Boston, to see the famous 
Rock, under its marble canopy, the 
colonial museum, and mossy grave¬ 
stones of the brave company that 
died in the bleak winters of three 
hundred years ago. 

Still woods and busy mills, lakes 
and mountains and rocks, incoming 
and outgoing trains and ships, fair 
weather and foul, monuments, Sab¬ 
bath bells, books, brave deeds of 
free men, and memories—all New 
England is the 

“Land ivhere our fathers died, 
Land of the Pilgrims pride.” 


New England Stories in Other Books .—A hittier’s “Snow Bound describes a 
New England winter. Hawthorne’s “House of Seven Gables is a story of Old 
Salem. Joseph C. Lincoln tells of “Cape Cod Folks and Sarah Orne Jewett 
of “The Country of the Pointed Firs.” 








IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH 


The Pilgrim Fathers 


The breaking waves dash'd high 

On a stern and rock bound coast; 

And the woods, against a stormy sky. 

Their giant branches toss d. 

And the heavy night hung dark, 

The hills and waters o’er, 

When a band of exiles moored their bark 
On the wild New England shore. 

Not as the conqueror comes, 

They, the true-hearted, came ;— 

Not zvith the roll of the stirring drums, 

And the trumpet that sings of fame ;—■ 

Not as the flying come, 

In silence, and in fear ;— 

They shook the depths of the desert’s gloom 
With their hymns of lofty cheer. 

Amidst the storm they sang; 

Till the stars heard, and the sea; 

And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang 
To the anthem of the free. 

The ocean-eagle soared 

From his nest, by the white wave’s foam. 

And the rocking pines of the forest roar'd ;— 

Such zvas their welcome home. 

There were men with hoary hair 
Amidst that pilgrim band; 

Why had they come to wither there, 

Away from their childhood's land? 

There was a woman’s fearless eye, 

Lit by her deep love’s truth; 

There was manhood’s brow serenely high, 

And the fiery heart of youth. 

What sought they thus afar! 

Bright jewels of the mine? 

The wealth of seas? the spoils of zvar? 

No—'tzvas a faith’s pure shrine. 

Yes, call that holy ground ,— 

Which first their brave feet trod! - 

They have left unstain’d what there they found — 

Freedom to worship God! 

—Felicia Hemans 



38 









SEEING THE - 
WORLD A ND ITS PEOPLE 
s MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES 


The Keystone Group 




(g) H. K. Turner 


The Uses of Wealth 


This picture by the American artist, E. H. Blashfield, is part of the wall decorations of the 
Citizens’ Bank Building in Cleveland. It symbolizes the uses of wealth and our dependence 
upon labor for the development of the resources, not only of the Middle Atlantic or Keystone 
Group, but the resources of this whole great, rich land of ours. 

Here is Wealth seated upon a throne with her golden key in her hand. Beside her, stands 
the sturdy workman whose efforts have created her and her power. Standing before her, with 
a half-finished sky- ^Arts, symbolized 

scraper, in the by a * a * r y° un S 

background, is a girl, * s kneeling 

group of claim- with a pallet and 

ants, presenting ^Wff h~JT~T~ T'T-C/;, '• \ lyre in her hands, 

their pleas before JsT/| rn-rL ~J -, i, '■''&[ LL" 4 4. 1 A man represent- 

the throne of _Y I \'\L.J7.Lr~l^,- : f-> f W-^ ing scientific re- 

Wealth. They J&ajSlSi&k YySF \IJ_] x H-QT/ JhC TV" ySMttjMEf) search is telling 
are introduced by tv\ '\f" '■} ° f his use for 

Civilization, a ( ^55 1) ~ wealth. The se- 

winged, half- \ rious-faced woman 

grown child. The is Education. 


T HE next time you see 
a door set in a round- 
topped opening, look at the mid¬ 
dle stone of the arch. The “key” 
stone that locks the arch is so 
shaped and placed as to give 

The Keystone Strength. S h O U 1 d it 
of the drop out, the wall 

State Groufi above would be very 

a p t to tumble like Humpty 
Dumpty. 

Pennsylvania, a big, solid ob¬ 
long, is nicknamed the Keystone 
State. It deserves this honor, for 




upon the group of seven 
states, from New York to 
Virginia, rests a large part of the 
manufacturing and trade of the 
United States. Let’s see if we 
can think out the reasons for their 
being so important. 


On the Great Trade Highway 

When a merchant rents a store 
he looks first for a good location. 
He wants a corner, or a frontage 
on a main business street, where 
many people are passing. It is 


39 





































































































































A Relief Map of New York Harbor 


V.«*. /VR&O 

NOV V CTHWtS 5>t *'riiU%l 


S#W >'■> 

»««v 

. ■ 


rsm»?i5»trsffw w 


■ 


The channels leading to the inner harbor of New York are here shown as if the water were re¬ 
moved. You can see why ocean steamships need a pilot after they pass Sandy Hook-—there are only 
a few deep-water channels across the shallow Lower Bay. The shallowness is caused (1) by river 
deposits made during the Glacial Period, when the continental ice sheet rested on Staten Island, the 
first land north of Raritan Bay on the left, and on Long Island. It is also caused (2) by modern 
stream deposits and (3) by ocean-bottom deposits of which the sand bars at Rockaway Beach and 
Sandy Hook are above-water representatives. The slight current of Hudson River and the rise and 
fall of the tides partly fill up the present channels so that they have to be dredged from time to 
time to admit the deep-draft ocean liners. Ambrose Channel on the right is entirely artificial. It 
had sixty-six million cubic yards of material dredged from it at a cost of four and a half million 
dollars. 


40 


iiiiiiiintiiiitiuiuiimmiiiiiiiutiuimimtmmuimmuuumimmumuummuuHmmimumtr- 
















IL# 1 


MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES 

just the same with countries. They tages. They 
cannot expect to buy and sell a great 
deal unless they are on a main line 
of travel and trade. The very 
busiest highway of the world is the 
North Atlantic Ocean. It 




are several times as | 
large as New England and have a j 
milder climate and richer soil. They | 
grow much of their own food in | 
grains, fruit, vegetables and dairy j 


Fronting 
the “Flain 
Street" 


connects the people * of 
Western Europe with 
those of the United 
States and Southern Can¬ 
ada. 

As people and goods 
can be carried at less 
cost by water than by 
land, ships 
always seek 
the ports far¬ 
thest inland. The sea- 
coast of this keystone 
group is two hundred 
miles farther west, and 
that much nearer the in¬ 
terior of America, than 
is the coast of New Eng¬ 
land. And three wide 
harbors, with rivers up 
which vessels can steam 
some distance farther, 

v 7 

are on their ocean front. 

From New York City, 
Philadelphia and Balti¬ 
more, there is an overland 
journey of only a few 
hundred miles to Buffalo 
and Pittsburgh. These 
cities are gateways to 
the Great Lakes and the 
Ohio river, water roads 
that lead into all parts 
of the rich and populous 
Mississippi Valley. 

You might say that this keystone 
group fills the middle of the block 
and runs right through to the next 
street. 

Besides having the very best lo¬ 
cation in America for trading, these 
keystone states have other advan- 


Steamship Entering New York 
Harbor 




• 1 


: m 




This is a big ocean steamship, steaming into New York Har¬ 
bor loaded with hundreds of people either coming to America 
for the first time or returning from a trip to Europe. 


products, 
ing stone, 


They have forests, build- | 
brick and pottery clays, | 
salt springs, iron, oil, | 
natural gas and coal, be- | 
sides water power. Water j 
falls turn the wheels of mills, but | 
coal is needed to run railroad trains | 
and ships, and to make steam for | 


Other Ad¬ 
vantages of 
the Groufi 


*.* 

♦♦ 


41 

















iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim PICTURED KNOWLEDGE lniniiimiunraiiniiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiimiiiriiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

Watching the Big Ships Come into Port 


This is Castle Garden on a day when a crowd has gathered to watch a big liner coming in from 
the sea. The liner is steaming haughtily into port with a bevy of little boats clustered around her. 


factories where there is no water 
power. 

You think these states have about 


everything! No; they have one 
“great big” handicap. A handicap 
you know, makes a boy work harder 


Castle Garden 


This is F. Hop kin son Smith s drawing of Castle Garden from the water. F. Hopkinson Smith was 
an American of whom we were justly very proud. He was an artist, engineer, lecturer and author 
a master workman in each profession Castle Garden was once Castle Clinton, a fort and arsenal. 
It has become a place of amusement where the city’s millions can come for a glimpse of the sea and 


42 


























A Relief Map of the Hudson 


From “the jagged peaks and tumbling cascades of the Catskills on the west”, the land slopes 
r ently to the broad valley of the Hudson, and the two main ranges of the mountains are roug y 
tarallel to the river. 


43 
























to win a race. It 
doesn’t do for 
boys and countries 
to h a v e t hi n g s 
come too easily. 
There should b e 
some things to 
overcome. The 
difficulty in these 
states is a low, but 
wide mountain 
wall between their 
east and west 
water fronts. 

The widest part 
of the Appala¬ 
chian Highlands 
lies diagonally 
across them from 
northeast to south¬ 
west. They begin 
east of the Hudson 
River in hilly 
ridges that run in- 
to the Green 
Mountains of New 
England. West of 
the Hudson they 
begin in the 
craggy knot of the 
Catskills. The 
Adirondacks of 
Northern New 
York form a sep- 
a r a t e mountain 
mass abovethe 
wide valley of the 
Mohawk River. 
South of New 
York State the 
highlands widen, 
until they cover 
most o f Pennsvl- 

j 

vania. 

Everywhere, as 
you can see, 
mountains lie be¬ 
tween the ocean 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

In the Slums 




In the slums of great cities the children 
do not get enough fresh air, sunshine and 
play to make them well and strong. 

“The Waldorf” 


The stories of New York that deal with 
the life of the rich—with “Society”—almost 
never fail to mention the Waldorf Astoria, 
one of New York’s most fashionable hotels. 


ports and the in- | 
land waterways. | 
To cross those | 
states is like going | 
in at a front door, | 
climbing the nar- | 
row, winding | 
stairs of some j 
river valley, | 
scrambling over a j 
ridgy roof and | 
tumbling down a | 
summer kitchen | 
shed to the back | 
door. It is really | 
easier to go j 
around the block. | 

Turning the Moun- 1 
tain Wall 

By going up | 
the Hudson River | 
to the Mohawk, | 
trains and ships j 
can turn the north | 
end of the moun- | 

The Water t a i n | 
Qafi and the Wall. j| 

Front T)oor Here I 
is the only low | 
water gap in the | 
long Appalachian | 
Highlands. Don’t j 
forget that. It | 
was this that | 
made New York | 
City, instead of | 
Boston or Phila- | 
delphia, “the | 
front door to | 
America ” | 

Partial water | 
gaps are made by [ 
other rivers. The | 
valley of the Del- | 
aware is beautiful, j 
but ships cannot j 
steam up that riv- | 
er as far as they | 


5 " 




44 

















A Scene in the Slums of New York 

In Clinton Street 


I. H 


This is another picture by F. Hopkinson Smith. How he has caught the ho] 
look of a New York slum and has shown it to us in this charcoal drawing! The 
and gloom, the rickety stairways and sagging fire-escapes, the narrow street a 
and misery, failure in the midst of the big city’s bustling success. Many cities 
themselves of slums and slum conditions, for these things mean wasted energy 
and much unhappiness. 


45 


















^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiH PICTURED KNOWLEDGE luiiHiiiimnraiiiiiuiinifflBrarainiiiinHimraiiiiiiiimHiiuiiraiiiiiig 


At the Sign of the Fish 



Here’s a Russian Jew’s stand in the Jewish quarter of New 
York’s East Side. The scales for weighing the wares are fast¬ 
ened to one side of the beam, and on the other is strung up a 
fish in the place of the brilliant electric sign that more 
prosperous merchants use to advertise their wares. 


The Story of the Shoe String Man ^ 

went out to Colorado, investigated the mine, § 
came to the conclusion that it only needed proper j= 
equipment to be made profitable, made it profit- §= 
able, and so got into the gold mining business. |§ 
Before long he owned not only one gold mine, = 
but several, and following the same principle of s 
cutting out other people’s profits and increasing § 
his own that he had done in making his own |§ 
blacking, he, with his brother partners, built his = 
own smelter for refining the gold from his mines. j§ 
From here on the story is dull, because he just = 
kept on getting more gold mines and more gold = 
mines and richer and richer. The most inter- = 
esting part of the story and the most important = 
part is how he began and how all big businesses 1 
begin, just like a big oak tree and everything 1 
else that grows begins—with a little tap root; 1 
and each successive development of the business H 
is a growth out of some other part of the busi- 1 
ness; just as the branches grow from the trunk = 
of a tree, the limbs from the branches, the twigs 1 
from the limbs. = 

What another very rich man, who also began 1 
very poor, as most very rich men do, said about = 
his business—“this is a good business”—is true 1 
of all businesses. Study your business—and stick = 
to it. . The commercial life of New York and i 
other cities is built on this principle. s 


It’s a queer thing about big businesses. You 
H would naturally suppose they started in a big 
H way, wouldn’t you? But they don’t. Trace any 
= big business back far enough and you will find 
H that it began in some small way, like that of the 
= little fish dealer with his crude fish sign just 

H above us here. Take, for instance, the story of 

j| the shoe string man. He came to New York 

H City a poor immigrant without much education 
H and practically no money. You can judge how 
H little money he had from the fact that he began 
m b y selling shoe strings on the streets. Then, 
|§ when he got a little money ahead, he added 

= shoe blacking. When he got a little more ahead 
s be opened a small store in which he carried not 
= only shoe strings and shoe blacking, but other 
= things. All the time he was studying his busi- 
1 ness as if it was the biggest business in the 
H world. He found out what blacking was made 
= of and so increased his profits by making his own 
H blacking. Then from being a retail dealer he be¬ 
ll gan to sell his blacking at wholesale and em- 
| ployed first one salesman and afterwards a good 
H many. One of the customers he had was a boot 
H and shoe dealer in Colorado. The dealer failed 
|§ and among the few things left for his creditors 
H was some stock in a gold mine. The shoe string 
H man—following his habit of looking into things— 




•# 


46 





t:illlllllllUllllllll]llll]UlllIJ]||lllllJllllllljUll]UllllilllUI]lllllllllU 


MIDDLE 

| can up the Hudson, and it 
| runs north and south. Busi- 
| ness-like railroads, westward 
| bound from Philadelphia, 

| Baltimore and Washington, 

| climb the steeper valleys of 
1 the Susquehanna and Poto- 
| mac. Road and railroad 
| building over highlands is 
| difficult and costly. The peo- 
| pie who settled these middle 
| states were shut in on the 
| seaboard, for nearly two 
| hundred years, by that broad 
| mountain wall. 

From the earliest days, the 
| importance of the Hudson 
| River Water Gap was under- 
| stood. The Indians of 
| western New York State 
| used it before white people 
| came to America. The 
| Dutch, who settled on New 
| York Bay, sailed up to Al- 
| bany, a distance of one hun- 
| dred and fifty miles. They 
| built a trading post there; 

| and from the decks of sailing 
| vessels they, and then the 
| English, traded for furs with 
\ Why the Indians, who 

1 roads Follow came over the 
| Old Trails Mohawk in their 

| canoes. The first steamboats 
| went up, too, and out over a 
1 canal that was cut through to 
| Buffalo. Railroads follow 
| this valley route today. From 
| the most eastern lake port, 

| below those beautiful but 
| troublesome Niagara Falls, 

| ships steam to the far ends of 
1 Lake Michigan and Lake 
| Superior. 

The First Link in the Water 
Chain 

As the first link in the 
| long chain of inland waters, 


ATLANTIC STATES iiuiiuuiiiimiiiJuiuiuiMiiiiiuiiimmiiiiJiiiJiijiimmiiiJiiiimi^ 

The Williams Street “Canyon” 


This is Williams Street, looking toward Wall Street. 
Its narrowness and the tall buildings on either side make 
it like one of the canyons cut by rivers in a great western 
plateau, and that is why it is often called the “Williams 
Street Canyon.” 


47 


























































iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin PICT U RE D 

the Hudson River is interesting. It 
is not a large stream, for it brings 
no great amount of water down to 
the ocean. That will surprise you, 
since it is a noble river, deep and 

The Equitable Building 


KNOWLEDGE ii[iiii[iiiii[iiiii[iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii[iiiiiiii[iiiiiiii[iiiiiiiinin | i | niiiiiiiiiinnn^ 

and on the New York and New Jer- | 
sey shores, that circle about that j 
great harbor. There are two nar- | 
row entrances to it, on the south and g 
east. The river enters from the j 

north. Its channel is | 
narrowed for a doz- 1 



This building is the home of a great life insurance company. 
Isn’t it queer that it should have Trinity’s graveyard directly in 
front of it? What once was the outskirts of a village is now a 
section of crowded thoroughfares lined with office buildings. 

wide, one of the wonders of the 
world of travel and trade. So we 
must try to account for it. 

The River It reac ^ ies the Atlantic 

and the Land- Ocean through a land- 
loched "Bay locked bay of about four 

square miles of deep water. Several 
million people live on the islands, 


en miles by Manhat¬ 
tan Island, on which 
New York City 
stands. 

Henry Hudson, 
the explorer, who 
found this river, 
thought it an ocean 
strait—that is, a nar¬ 
row neck of water 
joining two seas. It 
did not appear to 
flow. It danced in 
little white-capped 
waves. The tides 
rose and fell, as they 
do on the seashore. 
The western bank 
was lined for twenty 
miles by a high wall 
of ancient rocks like 
an ocean cliff. The 
stream widened to a 
sort of sea, and was 
bordered bv noble 

j 

highlands, on the 
east, and by the 
jagged peaks and 
tumbling cascades of 
tlie Catskills, on the 
west. Clear up to 
the falls, at Troy, the 
river was a straight, 
deep trough, filled with waters that 
rose and fell, as if the Atlantic had 
bored a shaft into the land. 

A river of this kind is an arm of 
the sea. Grown people call it an 
es-tu-ary, or tidal river. All the 
bays and rivers of our North At¬ 
lantic coast are estuaries. Once all 





♦♦ 


48 



















I® 


MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES 

was higher out of the fish go up these tidal rivers to feed, | 


this region 
ocean than it is today. The rivers 
carved their beds deep in the rocks. 
When the land sank, some wise men 
think, under the enormous weight of 
that great ice sheet that 
buried New England, 
the river beds of this 
region became so low 
that sea water poured 

A <Rwer That lnt ° 
is An Arm When the 

of the 5 ea glacier was 

gone their mouths were 

wide, deep bays. 

When a Valley Gets 
Drowned 

Where the coast was 
hilly, as in Maine, hill¬ 
tops and ridges were left 
out in the ocean, as a 
fringe of rocky capes 
and islands. The bays 
that pushed into the 
land were drowned val¬ 
leys. The Bay of Fundy 
in Eastern Canada, the 
wide river mouths of 
Maine, Narragansett 
Bay, Long Island 
Sound, New York, Dela¬ 
ware and Chesapeake 
Bays are big, drowned 
valleys. Ships can 
steam up most of the 
rivers that flow into 
them. Hudson River 
has the longest, straight- 
est, deepest bed of all 
these estuary rivers. 

In estuaries the water is not as 
deep nor the waves as high as out in 
the ocean. Neither is the water as 
salty, for rivers are always pouring 
fresh floods into them. The waste 
from the land has food in it that cer¬ 
tain fish like. Shad and other sea 


and to lay their eggs. So boat loads | 
of shad are caught in them all along | 
the coast. And shell fish, that can- j 
not defend themselves, lie in quiet j 


The Corner of Broadway and Wall Street 


Wall Street is the money center of the Unitea states. On it 
are the Stock Exchange, the brokers’ offices and the headquar¬ 
ters of the biggest businesses in the country. Here is the cor¬ 
ner of Wall Street and Broadway. Notice the steeple of beau¬ 
tiful old Trinity Church. With its graveyard full of tombs it 
stands, like a reminder of calmer days gone by, in the midst 
of the rush and roar of the city’s business. 


beds in the bays. There are lobsters, 
clams and oysters from Nova Scotia 
southward. The oyster fisheries of 
the Chesapeake Bay is one of the 
chief sources of wealth to Baltimore. 

We will learn more about these 
tidal rivers as we go across the land. 


ttiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiim 


49 







PICTURED 


The first land that is sighted by ves¬ 
sels entering New York Bay is 
Sandy Hook, New Jersey. A light¬ 
house stands there and pilot boats lie 
near to guide the steamers through 
“The Narrows” into the harbor. 
Sandy Hook is a sample of what you 
would see all along the 
shores of these middle 
states. But the sand is 
rr - not filled 

rftP 

Glacier Scared With boul- 
the New Land Jers as in 

Eastern Canada and New 
England. The glacier 
reached the sea only 
around New York Bay. 

The good soil was not 
scraped from the broad 
mountain valleys and the 
coastal plain. 


KNOWLEDGE 

Along the western edge of this 
sandy plain, the land suddenly rose 
to a rocky shelf. Over this ledge 
all the rivers foamed in beautiful 
falls that were used to turn the 

wheels of saw and grist mills. From 

the falls, a belt of hilly upland ex¬ 

The Flat Iron Building 


= Fertile Lands for Farming 


The white settlers of 
these states found fertile 
lands for farming all 
along the coast. In the 
northern and western 
parts wheat, potatoes, 
apples, hay and hops 
grew well. Grapes, 
peaches, melons, and the 
most delicate vegetables 
could be 
grown 
around Del¬ 
aware Bay. In Virginia, 

Washington and other 
states, planters grew 
great crops of tobacco 
for the London market. 

A wharf ran out from 
every big estate or plan¬ 
tation, for ocean vessels could sail up 
every tidal river for a distance of 
about eighty miles from the sea. In 
the south, this coastal plain was 
called the “Tidewater of Virginia.” 


Farming 
in Colonial 
Days 


“Flat Iron” building from 
Fifth Avenue and Broadway, 


© Keystone View Co. 

This triangular building, called the 
its shape, fills the angle where 

New York’s two greatest thoroughfares, come together. It is 
one of the best examples of the skyscraper, the most modern 
form of architecture. Massive, yet graceful, it towers upward, 
typical of America’s business enterprise and ambition. Read 
about the skyscraper in the story of architecture. 


tended for fifty miles westward. It 
stretched along the eastern base of 
the mountains, from New Jersey to 
Alabama. 

Find Trenton, New Jersey, on 


50 











^iiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniii 


Brooklyn and the Famous Bridge 



Brooklyn and Brooklyn Bridge from New York 

We do not usually think that city warehouses and docks along the water front are beautiful, but 
doesn’t this busy scene with the graceful bridge spanning the river, give you the feeling of con¬ 
fidence and pride in this great America of ours? Confidence in the strength and power of the mil¬ 
lions of busy people who make up her population, pride in her activity and resources, of which this 
harbor scene is typical. 



Painting the Cables of Brooklyn Bridge 


The great steel cables that make up Brooklyn Bridge must be covered with paint protect them 
from rust. Forty-eight painters are at work, painting the cables, three hundred feet above the 
water of the river. The painting required eight months and cost $60,000. 



51 














































































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


How New York Solved Her Transportation Problem 


This is a cross-section of the McAdoo Tunnel. Moving her millions of people to and from work 
or play, night and morning, was New York’s big engineering problem. Now you can ride under¬ 
neath both the Hudson and the East Rivers, under miles of tall buildings, from one side of the 
great city to the other, in the subway. 


your map. Draw a line from there 
to Philadelphia, Baltimore, Wash¬ 
ington, Richmond and Petersburg. 
WJiy tie Through these cities, and 
"Fall Line" on southward and around 
U Famous the southern end of the 
mountains, runs the famous Fall 
Line. This Fall Line is so impor¬ 
tant that we spell its name with cap¬ 
ital letters. Along it, rushing waters 
turn the wheels of factory cities. 
Washington is so busy governing 
our country that it does no manufac¬ 
turing, but it gets its water supply 
from above the falls of the Potomac. 

The fifty-mile wide strip of high¬ 
er land, between the falls and the 
first range of mountains, is called 
the Piedmont Belt. You might for¬ 
get that odd name if you did not 


know that it is Latin for Foot-of-the- j 
mountain Belt. We spell its name | 
with capital letters, too. Together | 
with the coastal plain, it feeds the | 

About the hungry cities at the falls | 
Piedmont and the seaports. Al- | 
though this belt lies | 
high, it was once covered with forests | 
and it has the fine, lowland soils of a j 
mountain valley. The air is pure, | 
cool and moisL 

The northern end of this Pied- | 
mont Belt is covered with small, rich | 
truck gardens and fruit farms. In | 
Virginia, it grows the tobacco crop. | 
Much of the coastal plain, or Tide- j 
water of Virginia, is now used to | 
grow something you like—peanuts. | 
Peanuts love to push their pretty | 
shell toes into the soft warm sand, I 


52 






















The iMan AAAho Controls the Power 


Painted by Howard Brown © Munn & Co. 

Here is the man who controls the supply of electric power to the trains that hourly, day and 
night, are carrying hundreds of thousands of people in the great subways which underlie New York 
City. He is looking at the hands on those clock-like indicators. These indicators show him 
how much power is being used on the different lines, just as the steam gauges in the cab of the 
locomotive engineer show the amount of steam pressure and the rate at which it is being used up 
by the engine. While the locomotive engineer, by means of this information, controls the running 
of one train, the man at the switchboard controls the operation of many trains in his division of 
the great New York subways. 










tXPtfcjJ 


ti 




mnliiftORo ii 


J'UftOtlft AW CONCCUtUL 




4TMANI 




jUym 


DUMONT 






New York s streets are a tangle of traffic underground as well as above it—traffic of many kinds. 
There are miles of water, sewage and gas pipes, telephone, telegraph, trolley and electric light wires 
The picture shows how a big pipe was divided into two branching ones to allow another nine to 
pass over it. * K 


v 

♦< 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 
The Grand Central Station in New York 






; '• 3 - 3 ' » 1 'TiTjT* 2 ? , . v> 
. ** i; r*5 ?{>*>*•• 

Hz-.: -.Hun »«« i 


The picture shows a cross-section of the Grand Central Station of New York City, which is the 
terminal for all roads running into it. Notice that there are “Ramps,” that is, inclined passage¬ 
ways, instead of stairs and elevators. Counting the viaduct across the street at the right there are 
six levels of traffic here. Can you find them all? 


The Tangle of Traffic Underground 










































|:iiiiiiiiiiiiii!II1IIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES iiniiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiM 

I just as you do. Express trains II the Woolworth Building Were Built | 

| run from one end to the other Upside Down 

| of both the coastal plain and r 
| the Piedmont Belt, to carry farm 
| produce to northern markets. 

I Other trains run up and 
down the Great Valley that lies 
| behind the first mountain 

The Woolworth Building 

Here is the Woolworth Building, 
another of New York’s skyscrapers. 

It is seven hundred and fifty feet 
high, the tallest structure in the 
world with the exception of the 
H Eiffel Tower in Paris. 




or# 


New York City gets its water from 
the Catskill Mountains, many miles 
away. To bring this water to the part 
of the city that needs it most, an enor¬ 
mous aqueduct had to be built. As this 
is to last for all time, it is tunneled out 
of the solid rock far beneath the city 
and East River. Tall as the 
Woolworth Building is, if it 
were inverted as you see it 
in the picture, the tip of its 
tower would barely reach the 
top of this tunnel, which is 
seven hundred and fifty-two 
feet below the surface. 


55 




































































& 


Si 



PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


range. In New York State, this is the 
Hudson and Mohawk Valley out to 
Lakes Ontario and Erie. In Penn¬ 
sylvania, it follows the Delaware and 
Susquehanna, but is broken by low 
ranges. In Virginia, it is the narrow 
basin of the Potomac and Shenan¬ 
doah. This is noted for its richness, 
beauty and historic interest. 


In going up the Susquehanna ^ 
from Philadelphia and across the j 
Great Valley of Pennsylvania, you | 

Where the See & reerl , fie ^ S ’ fl °. CkS 1 

Smoke and herds, blossoming j 

Stacks Rise orchards, forest-covered j 

ridges, and bright, winding moun- j 
tain streams. Then the train runs j 
into the coal mining region around j 


Atlantic City on a Hot DaV 


Atlantic City, one of the many seaside resorts of New Jersey, is not on the mainland, but on the 
long, warm, sandy islands that are parallel to the shore. Behind them are quiet lagoons, with marshy 
banks, but their outer edges are smooth sand beaches, upon which the ocean waves rush and break 
in foaming crests. Thousands of people go there for the bathing and cool breezes. 


Everywhere this Great Valley, 
and the Allegheny plateau that 
drops toward the Ohio and Lake 
Erie, has good farming and pasture 
E- n • lands. Herds of dairy 
and Orchard cows supply milk, butter 
Lands and cheese to the cities 

of the East and to those about the 
inland waterways. In April and 
May, the apple orchards are as pink 
as the drifts of laurel that cover the 
slopes in June. There are grape 
vineyards around Niagara Falls, as 
there are across the river in the gar¬ 
den spot of Canada. 


Scranton, and you see the smoke 
stacks of steel mills at Easton. It 
surprises you to learn that iron ore, 
beds of limestone and the only field 
of an'-thra-cite coal in America lie 
just under the surface of that beau¬ 
tiful landscape. 

That very hard coal is so valuable 
that it pays much better to dig it out 
of the ground than it does to grow 
things on top. There is only five 
hundred square miles of it, but the 
veins are thick, and they lie where a 
short railroad haul takes the coal to 
water. Also, they lie near mines of 


56 









^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiin MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiit*# 

“Wild Life” in New York City 


“Goodby to Gotham!” 


Here we take our last snapshot at the great city 
before passing on to other features of the Middle Atlan¬ 
tic States. 


iron ore and limestone, and 
so furnish fuel for making 
a small quantity of steel. 
Philadelphia uses that steel 
to make locomotives. 

The Minerals in the 
Appalachians 

These old, low Appala¬ 
chian Highlands are noted 
for the great quantities of 
minerals in them. There is 
no gold, silver, copper, tin 
or lead, or indeed any of the 
metals in workable quanti¬ 
ties, except zinc, in Virginia. 
But there are small quanti¬ 
ties of iron at the north and 
south ends, a little here near 
the anthracite coal beds, and 
vast stores of building stone, 
slate, marble and the fuel 
minerals—soft coal, petro¬ 
leum oil and natural gas. 

After crossing the Alle- 


♦♦ 


Here’s a family of wild turkeys and a bit of their native West Virginia woodland, in the midst 
of New York City. “How can that be?” you ask. This is one of the famous groups in the Ameri¬ 
can Museum of Natural History in New York City. Notice how skillfully all the natural surround¬ 
ings of the birds are reproduced. 


57 




Night View of New York 



C r tV at *■* beautiful spectacle, as this striking photograph of the Metropolis 

shows us. Compare it with Whxstler’s pictures of London and the Thames at night. i¥ACiro P oll! > 




MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES 

Getting Ready for Next Winter’s Buckwheat Cakes 


(c) keystone View Co. 

| gheny plateau, the 
| train goes down 
| the bluffy river 
| banks, and under 
| Pittsburgh’s pall of 
| soft coal smoke. 

| There is more 
| smoke above the 
| clattering mills 
| and the crowded 
| shipping in the lake 
| harbors of Buffalo 
| and Erie. The 
| whole western 
| slope of this east- 
| ern mountain sys- 
| tern is underlaid 
| with soft coal. 

| Pennsylvania and 
| West Virginia 
| alone have as much 
| as 25,000 square 
| miles of easily 
| worked mines. 

1 They have coal to sell; coal to run 
| the trains across the mountains and 
| fill the bunkers of ocean vessels; coal 
I to run the fleets on the Great Lakes; 
| and coal to turn the wheels of count- 
| less factories. 

But near those vast coal mines 
| there is no iron, no timber, or wheat, 
| or much of anything to work up in 
1 mills. How, then, does Pittsburgh 


Here’s a field of one of the reliable, 
stand-by crops of the Middle Atlantic 
States — buckwheat. It’s in blossom 
now. but later the grain will be har¬ 
vested and ground to flour for piles 
upon piles of delicious, brown buck¬ 
wheat cakes! 


happen to be the | 
center of the steel j 
industry? 

You can under- | 
stand why, with its | 
salt springs where j 
buffalo and deer | 
had “salt 1 i c k s,” | 
Syracuse, New | 
York, should make j 
salt and soda. Glens | 
Falls in the Adi- j 
rondacks has for- I 
ests from which to | 
make lumber and | 
wood-pulp paper. | 
Baltimore cans the | 
oysters of Chesa- | 
peake Bay, and the | 
peaches and other | 
fruits and vege- j 
tables of the coastal j 
plain. Baltimore | 
and Richmond | 
manufacture the tobacco of the Pied- j 
mont Belt. Trenton makes china- n 
ware from its beds of pottery clay. | 
y 7 . But if these cities had 1 

Leading , 

Industries of nothing’ CXCCpt t n C 1 T n 

Other Cities water power and cheap j 
water transportation, it would pay | 
them to fetch materials from a long | 
distance, to work up in factories. | 
New England, you remember, goes to | 


:: 





















PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Pittsburgh and the Rivers that Made It 




H This picture, as you see, was taken near the junction of the two rivers that made old Fort Pitt 

m into the great Pittsburgh of today. Do you know the names of these two rivers? H 

1 Pittsburgh Steel Works at Night § 


s © Vander Wyde 

Pittsburgh is sometimes called “The Steel City 
one of the great steel works at night. 




:: 


60 











MIDDLE ATLANTIC 

1 the end of the earth for raw mate- 
| rials. So Philadelphia makes leather, 

, | shoes, rugs and carpets. Brooklyn 
| refines raw sugar from the West In- 
| dies. New York City prints books 
| on the paper, and finishes lumber 
| from the Adirondacks; and it turns 
| cloth woven in many lands into 
| ready-made clothing. Troy, at the 
| falls of the Hudson, uses New Eng- 
| land cotton cloth and Irish linen to 
| make car loads of collars and cuffs. 

| Paterson, New Jersey, fetches raw 
| silk, and even silk weavers, from 
| Italy, to weave miles of ribbons and 
| dress goods. 

| So Pittsburgh brings steamer 
| loads of iron ore from the far west- 
| ern end of Lake Superior, so it can 
| use the coal from its mines profit- 
| ably. With natural gas to make the 
| great heat needed in glass blowing, 

| it pays to fetch sand from a distance. 

| Buffalo keeps some of the wheat and 
| lumber that come over the lakes from 
| the West, and makes them into flour 
and railroad cars. 


The Wide Brotherhood 

of Business 

Isn’t that 
wonderful? 


STATES 


“When the ice breaks 
up in the spring, eagles 
and crows wheel out of 
forest-crowned heights”. 


and 

the 


“The great harbor, with its swarming shores and 
waters, is scarcely left behind, before the cliff-like wall of 


= the Palisades rises from the west bank.’ 


Back 
forth, 
shuttle of 
manu f actur- 
ing and trade flies 
across these states. 

The mill wheels turn 
to foaming falls or 
driving steam. The 
trains seek the water 
gap or sturdily climb 
the mountain wall. The ships sail 
in and out. And the peoples of the 
Old World, that we have never seen, 
exchange their products and work 
with the people of the heart of 
America. It thrills them to think 
w r * °f it. They get news of 

now the Ur eat J ° i 

Worlds our country with its rich 
Touch Hands deep mines and 

humming cities. Thousands of them 
decide every year to come here to 
live. Most of them come through 
New York, “the front door.” This 
arch of states supports them, gives 
them work, or makes a bridge for 
them to cross to land farther west. 

Don’t you think this Keystone 
Group deserves its name? 

If you live west of these states 
and have the good luck to visit them, 
you should make the journey 
by one route and return by an¬ 
other. Be sure that the train 
you take crosses the mountains 
or runs up the Hudson River 
valley by daylight, or you will 
miss the lovely views. A stop¬ 
over of a half-dav in Buffalo 

* 

will give you a chance to see 




l: t't 





till 


8» 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE niraiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiimiBmiimiiiiiimiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiniiiraii 

The Adirondack Mountain 




Gothic Saddleback Basin Haystack Marcy 

South Mountain 


The tree-clad peaks and ridges in the Adirondacks of northeastern New York are near the heart of tl 
during the Glacial Period. Height in mountains means one of two things. Do you know what they ai 
very hard. Forests still cover the mountains, for they are not high enough to rise above the timber line. T 
and for a forest reserve. The spongy forest floor helps regulate the flow of the rivers that rise here. 

Niagara Falls. We told you about 
them in the story of Canada. And 
we will tell you more about New 
York, Philadelphia and Washington 
in a special story of our great cities. 

The Trip Up the Hudson 

Those who can should take a trip 
up the Hudson. Few rivers in the 
world have so much human interest, 
and such a wealth and variety of 
scenic beauty. Up to Albany the 
banks are lined with railroads, and 
the channel is filled with shipping. 

Freight and passenger steamers, 
pleasure boats, some with sails, and 
long strings of steam-towed canal 
barges, make an endless procession 
on the heaving tide. 

Yet there is something grand and 
wild about the narrow valley. The 
great harbor with its swarming 


shores and waters is scarcely left be¬ 
hind, before the cliff-like wall of the 
Palisades rises from the west bank. 
Then on the east looms the long 
ridge of the Highlands with their 

The Palisades n ° bl e domes of Storm 
of the King and Dunderberg 

Hudson (Thunder Mountain). 

Towns and great estates crown these 
steeps or nestle at their feet, as they 
do along the River Rhine in Ger¬ 
many. Higher up, the valley is 
guarded on the west by the peaks 
and cascades of the Catskills, where 
Rip Van Winkle saw the fairy crew 
of the “Half Moon,” Henry Hud¬ 
son’s vessel. The river is lined with 
legends. Every place has some 
queer old Dutch or Indian name, 
every one with a story. 

Above the falls at Troy the river 
narrows. It twists and winds and 


62 
















nd 


MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES 

How They Were Made 







n • '♦IwvltS' 





' .' , XmL 1 :. . :. WS#pf If 



Colden 


Avalanche Pass 
Mt. Jo 


Wright 


McIntyre 


Iroquois 
Indian Pass 


Jiiountain mass. The summits rear themselves high toward heaven, though the slopes were smoothed and rounded 
r|t means either youth or resistant rocks. In this case the mountains are old but their rocks are crystalline and 
'ij oil is poor and the slopes too steep for agriculture. The region is valuable for hunting, for summer resorts 


foams down a rocky bed that be¬ 
comes steeper. Wild ducks and 
geese are often seen, for they use 
this beautiful route for their spring 
and fall travels, north and south. 
When the ice breaks up in the spring 
eagles and crows wheel out of forest- 
where crowned heights to catch 

the Eagles fish. Then the little 

Wheel river, no more than a 

mountain brook, leaps down from 
the Adirondacks. This rugged mass 
of very old mountains is an un¬ 
spoiled wilderness, the paradise of 
summer campers. It is now a forest 
reserve and state park of more than 
two million acres. High up in the 
wooded peaks the mighty Hudson 
has its beginning in a wee, bright 
drop of a glacial lake that is called 
“The Tear of the Clouds.” 

The Hudson River is one of our 


wonder stories. It seems too good 
to be true. 

If you happen to be in one of the 
eastern cities in hot weather, you 
would want to go to Atlantic City or 
one of the many other seaside resorts 
of New Jersey. These places are 

The Famous n °t 011 *he ma -i n l an d, but 

Bathing on the long, narrow, 
Beaches sandy islands that lie 

parallel to the shore. Behind them 
are quiet lagoons, with marshy banks, 
but their outer edges are smooth 
sand beaches, up which the ocean 
waves rush and break in foaming 
crests. That long line of sandy is¬ 
lands, where thousands of people go 
for the bathing and cool breezes, 
are- 


But to learn just what these is¬ 
lands are and about them you must 
read the next story. 


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j^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE ninuiiiiioiiiiiiiiiiiinniffliiiiijiiiiiiujiiraiiiiiiraiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiffli^ 



The forested slopes of the Catskills are too steep and have too poor soil for agriculture, so 
only the valley bottoms are used for farms. These particular valleys are far more valuable for 
another purpose, though, and you would never guess what it is—they supply distant cities with 
water! Esopus Creek, which you see in this picture, has been dammed a little farther down 
stream; an artificial lake with forty miles of shore line has been produced by the dam and the water 
has been piped to New York City, ninety-two miles away. The sites of seven villages were cov¬ 
ered with water in doing this. In this way the rainfall of the Catskills is used and the water ob¬ 
tained is sure to be pure, because there are no settlements on the mountains to empty their sewage 
into the valley streams. 


The Beautiful Valley of the Hudson 



= © Keystone View Co. 


In the distance is the even Crestline that is typical of old, worn ranges like those of the Appa¬ 
lachians. Then comes the rolling valley of the Hudson, with rows of trees marking it into grain 
fields. The scenery along the Hudson is so varied and beautiful that the river has been called “the 
Rhine of America.” One reason for this is that the Hudson, instead of flowing along a lengthwise 
depression of the mountain ranges, cuts across the highland, making palisades and cliffs, forming 
sometimes a narrow gorge and sometimes wide flood plains over which the waters of the river 
spread like a lake. 




♦ ♦ 


64 










The headwaters of the Delaware River are in the Catskills. Can you tell the age of these 
mountains from the picture? They have been worn down, as is shown by the lack of elms and the 
gentle slopes, and a long time has gone by since the mountains were young and rugged. Indeed 
the Catskills are not true mountains at all, but a stream-cut part of the Allegheny Plateau. Being 
low, they are clothed in timber to their very summits. The valleys are broad enough to provide 
gentle slopes for fields and pastures as in this valley, which cradles the village of Stamford. 


^♦IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIIH 


The traveler on the Hudson River (in the little launch, for instance) sees a line of steep cliffs 
on the New Jersey shore. They rise 300 to 500 feet above the river. The upper portion of the 
cliffs is usually a precipice, but below it the slope is gentler. Vertical cracks or joints mark the 
precipices. The weather has worn them into a set of columns. Some of them look like gigantic 
stakes or pales, hence the name Palisades, from a Latin word meaning “a column.” The rock 
forming the Palisades was never a fiery, molten mass as many people believe. It was a sheet of hot 
lava that forced itself in between beds of soil washed there by water. This soil is still to be seen 
in the gentle slopes at the base of the Palisades. The beds of soft, rocky soil above the lava were 
long ago worn away by the weather, rivers and glaciers. The slow cooling of the lava caused a 
shrinkage which made the vertical joints of the Palisades. 


The Winding Delaware Below Stamford 


tpiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiM MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES lliliiiiiiiiilliiiiiiliiliiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 

1 The Palisades of the Hudson I 


65 






“The Rock of Ages” Below the American Falls 



Those great blocks of stone have tumbled from the crest of the fall; they were sapped away by 
the removal of the weak shale rock underneath. The river here is unable to carry off these rocks, 
as the water at the Canadian side of the Falls does. Here they lie, telling their story of the lessen¬ 
ing force of the water on the American side of the Falls. The American Fall is daily being robbed 
of its water by the Canadian Fall. Some day it will disappear entirely. 

In a little while, a thousand years or so, a thousand years are as but a moment to the professor 
of geology—a tourist visiting Niagara will see above this rocky rampart no falls at all; only a bare 
cliff. The Canadian Falls will have eaten its way around into the water supply of the American 
Fall and carried it all away. The Canadian “horse shoe” is cutting back at the rate of five feet 
a year, while the American Fall is wearing back at the rate of only three inches per year. The 
Canadian Falls, pouring over a much larger volume of water, can churn about the blocks that tumble 
from its limestone capping, and this great churn drill constantly deepens the horseshoe in the middle 
of the channel and so cuts into the American side of the Falls. 

And what do you suppose gave the Canadian Falls this advantage? Goat Island! The island 
divides the waters of the river and leaves the larger proportion to the Canadian side. 



^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES nniimniiiiiiiiiiiuiiumimiiiiiBiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiimiiiiiiiii^ 

1 The American Side of the Falls 



From Father Hennepin’s visit in the seventeenth century to the present time, Niagara has 
always been an object of wonder and admiration to travelers. The water falls one hundred and 
sixty feet straight down. The great volume of water is explained by the fact that this river forms 
the outlet for the upper Great Lakes. The American Fall, shown here in the foreground, is smaller 
than the Canadian Fall, whose horseshoe appears in the distance. The Canadian Fall recedes about 
five feet a year. Each cataract is vertical because the water descends over a bed of resistant lime¬ 
stone. Spray rises high into the air and a rainbow often arches the gorge below the Falls. 



Niagara in Winter 


As in the days when the great glacier mantled the northern part of the continent with an icy 
covering, Niagara, in winter, covers the soil and rocks with a mass of snowy frostwork. 




67 











giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinu PICTURED KNOWLEDGE .... nniiiiniiinnniinii^ 


Model of Niagara Falls and Gorge 



There are three striking features of this region. The first is the Niagara Escarpment, a line 
of north and south cliffs and steep slopes caused by the ledges of resistant Niagara limestone, which 
extends from Lewiston and Queenston through St. Davids. Second, is the deep, narrow gorge 
between Queenston, where Niagara was born as the waters fell over the escarpment, and the present 
cataracts seven miles upstream at the city of Niagara Falls. Here the American and Canadian 
falls are separated by Goat Island. The third feature is the broad, shallow river above the falls. 
The elbow at the Whirlpool is caused by the absence of rock on the north wall of the gorge where 
the river has happened on and cut into a buried gorge. Well borings show that this gorge extends 
northeastward to the Niagara escarpment at St. Davids. A third of the way from the Whirlpool 
to Queenston are Wintergreen Flats, where there is an abandoned Canadian fall. Southeast of 
Clifton the gorge is narrow, because part of the water was drawn away from that part of the gorge 
during a long period in its history. 


Father Hennepin at Niagara 



Niagara Falls changes constantly, so it probably had a quite different aspect when Father 
Hennepin first gazed at it. Here you see him looking earnestly and devoutly at the roaring waters. 
He saw only its grandeur and beauty, little dreaming of the industrial power modem invention 
would apply it to. 



68 









SEEING THE WORLD 
A ND IT S PEOPLES 

SOUTHERN STATES 


Away Down South in Dixie 


///yWWy. 


TKe Children’s Story of the Land of Cotton 

This is how the children in the kindergarten in the schools of Menominee, Wisconsin, told 
the story of “The Land of Cotton.” There is the cotton plant itself, ready for picking, with 
one boll just beginning to break open; two scenes of the cotton pickers at work; the latest 
and best type of cotton bale, and various things made of cotton, including a doll’s hammock and 
a doll’s apron made by the little weavers and seamstresses themselves, 

N O other 

p a rt of v * 

the big Unit- ^ WSSr\ 

ed States h as 41 Vjyp 

had so many 'xA ■ 

loving songs 
written about it as our 
beautiful sunny Southland. 

The gay words and tune of 
“Dixie Land” make us all glad of 
this land of plenty, where every¬ 
one gets “fat or fatter.” They 
make you think of bright skies, 


- even in Ue- 

^ cember; of 

„ wet green 
r * ce 

sugar cane, 
and corn, 
and cotton, and orange 
W* orchards; of cosy cabins 
and white pillared plantation 
houses. They make you think of 
tinkling banjos and dancing feet, 
and of mocking birds singing in 
moonlit cypress groves. 


69 






































































































♦> 
♦ ♦ 


S' 



PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

A View of the South and the Sea Floor 


As you look down on this picture of part of the Gulf and Southern States, with the adjoining 
lands, picture to yourself some of the things referred to in this story of the great and beautiful 
South—the continental shelf sloping miles out to sea, the barrier islands, the lagoons of quiet 
water, storm waves plowing up the sand. 

The bodies of water between Florida and South America are seas in the midst of the land and 
so may be called the American Mediterraneans. Between them rise the Greater and the Lesser 
Antilles, chains of volcanoes in the seas of the islets between Porto Rico and Venezuela, true 
mountains in the West Indian Islands from Porto Rico to Cuba and Jamaica. Santo Domingo 
rises only 10,300 feet above sea level, but it is only 270 miles from there to the Bronson Deep, 
whose bottom is 27,366 feet below sea level. This gives a total relief of 37,666 feet, which is higher 
than the loftiest mountain on the visible surface of the earth. 


This big, warm, out-of-door land 
of the southern states stretches from 
the Atlantic ocean around the Gulf 
of Mexico, and as far north as cot¬ 


ton grows. Most of its surface is 
lowland washed by blue seas. So 
we are apt to forget that bold moun¬ 
tain heights, the broad south end 


*♦ 


7 o 














^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilM SOUTHERN STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiililii!ii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiililililiiiiii» 

| Along the Route of the Song Birds I 



“Then many of the song birds start north. 
They fly, up the Coastal Plain and the Mississip¬ 
pi Valley, chiefly. Some fly over the Pied¬ 
mont Belt, at the eastern base of the moun¬ 
tains, over the foothills of the western 
base and up the great valley be¬ 
tween the ranges. If you spent the 
winter in the South, you would 
have to come home along one of 
the bird routes, for that 
is the way the railroads 
run. Railroad builders are 
as wise as our little broth¬ 
ers of the air.” 


at the 
Smoky 


This picture is like the 
models you make on the 
sand table. On the east 
is the Piedmont Plateau, 
a region of lofty mountains, now 
worn down to a low plain or pene¬ 
plain. Northwest of it is the Blue 
Ridge escarpment (steep slope) 
border of the Unakas or Great 
Mountains, which include Mt. 
Mitchell, the highest peak in eastern Unit¬ 
ed States. This mountain is made of hard 
rock, so that it has not worn down as the other 
ancient mountains have. (Locate Mt. Mitchell on 
your geography map and then find where it stands 
in this model of the mountains as the birds see them.) 
Next comes the Appalachian Valley, called Cumberland 
Valley, Shenandoah Valley and other names, a lowland 
of folded, weak rock which extends the whole length of 
the Appalachians. It has long, narrow ridges within it. On the 
west is the Cumberland Plateau, a hilly region of horizontal 
rocks. 


of the Appalachian Highlands, part 
these states in the middle of the 

OverMoun- north, like a giant 
tain. River, wedge, and push far 
and, Rlam down into Georgia and 
westward across Alabama. 

Indeed, as you look at the map, 
the mountains seem to be the very 
core of the country. On three sides, 
as you can see by the way the rivers 
flow, the land slopes from the cen¬ 
tral highlands. On the west it drops 
from a plateau to the valley of the 
Mississippi. South and east it de¬ 
scends across the hilly Piedmont 
(“foot of the mountain”) Belt to the 
coastal plain. The foot-of-the- 
mountain upland is broader than in 


the Middle States; and the plain is 
widened to three hundred miles of 
sandy flats, fertile river valleys, 
wooded hills and marshy tracts near 
the sea. The peninsula of Florida 
pushes its low wastes of sand, its 
lakes and swamps and fringing is¬ 
lands six hundred miles farther, and 
into a tropic ocean. 

Islands, Islands, Everywhere! 

It would be safe to go swimming 
almost anywhere along this coast. 
The shore waters are warm and shal¬ 
low over clean sand. And there are 
bathing beach islands like those 
along New Jersey. These sand bar 
islands border the shore from New 


:: 


71 





♦jjiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiH PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 






England to southern Florida. They 

Tk. Beautiful be S in a S ain 31 Tam P a 

Bathing Bay and run around the 

Beaches Gulf coast to Mexico. 

Many of them 


wall away the ocean and defend the 
land. 

Great crops of the long-fibered, 
sea-island cotton are grown on some 


are big enough 
for resort cities 
like Atlantic 
City, N ew Jer¬ 
sey, and Palm 
Beach, Florida. 

Galveston, Tex¬ 
as, an important 
seaport, is on a 
low, sandy is¬ 
land three miles 
wide by thirty 
long. Its harbor 
is a lagoon-like 
bay behind the 
island. 

Many sea 
coasts have these 
beach islands 
but no other one 
in the world has 
such a long, un¬ 
broken line of 
them. They were 
made in a curi¬ 
ous way. The 
continental shelf 
is broad and 
high here, and 
like the coastal 
plain it slopes so 
gradually that 
miles out at sea, 
the water is seldom more than thirty 
feet deep. Storm waves plow up the 
r . xvz sand and carry it for- 
of Making ward to where the tops 
Islands of the waves break in 

foaming crests and fall back. There 
the heavy sand is dropped. In 
time, long, narrow islands are piled 
up parallel to the shore. They are 
called barrier islands, because they 


An Ancient Spanish Causeway 


© Underwood & Underwood 

This is an ancient 
swamps near Ormond, 


Spanish causeway built through the jungle and 
Florida. 

of them; and those that are marshy 
grow rice. Some are fine for pleas¬ 
ure resorts, and all of them give 
small boats shelter from storms. 

Between the islands and the main¬ 
land are lagoons of quiet water. 
Row and sail boats, and coastwise 
barges and steamers, too small to 
venture out into the ocean, can go 
through lagoons and connecting 



Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiliiiii* 


7 2 








iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiini SOUTHERN STATES iinininiiiinnninniniiiiinnraimniiiiimininiiniiiiiiinuiiiiiinMmiiiiiinniiii^ 

From Dismal Swamp to Happy Farm 1 


The Dismal Swamp 

This doesn’t look like very promising farm land, does it? Yet, just look at the picture below. 
That fine, level, rich farm land was reclaimed from the Dismal Swamp by clearing out the trees 
and draining it. When once these swamps are drained so that growing things can breathe in 
them—you know, seeds are like people, they can’t breathe under water—they make very fine 
farm land. 


73 





















♦Al 

♦> 


PICTURED 

canals from New York to Texas. 
And after the canal was finished 
across Cape Cod peninsula from 
Massachusetts to Buzzard’s Bay, 
they were able to go from Boston. 
Long ago a canal was cut from 
Chesapeake Bay into Albemarle 
Sound, so small shipping would not 
be obliged to go around stormy Cape 


KNOWLEDGE 

canal from Chesapeake Bay crosses 
famous Dismal Swamp. It is only 
twenty feet above sea level, and has 
a six-mile lake in the middle of it. 
The soil is black and spongy. Moss 
spreads and mats over stagnant 
pools. Cypress trees stand in thick¬ 
ets up to their bent knee roots in 
still, dark water. Cedars, oaks and 




How Rivers Get to Wandering 



This is a view in the Great Valley of the Appalachians, with the Tennessee River swinging in 
great ox-bow curves or meanders. Meanders are often due to the overloaded condition of the 
stream, which curves about in order to develop a gentle grade, down which it can carry its 
sediment. The Great Valley, made of weak rock, has fertile soil, as evidenced by the smiling 
tieids. Hills still retain woods, as do the banks of the stream, where the trees set off the river 
like a fringe on a beautiful ribbon. The meanders never seem to develop on gentle slopes unless 
the stream is somewhat overloaded, but not when it is too much overloaded. Meanders are due 
to too slow movement of a river. They develop when the stream is easily turned aside. 


Hatteras. Since the earliest days of 
the colonies there has always been a 
good deal of trading by lines of busy 
Island little boats up and down 

Guarded this coast. A number of 

Harbors the lagoons are widened 

and deepened into such island- 
guarded harbors as are found at 
Charleston, Savannah, Tampa, Pen¬ 
sacola, Mobile and Galveston. By 
dredging out sand bars, they are 
deep enough for ocean steamers. 

Wherever a sandy or marshy cape 
broke the line of lagoons, it was 
usually easy to cut a canal. The 


:$i 


beeches cover the drier ground. 
Much good lumber is shipped out 
through the canal. 

This, and the many smaller 
swamps that lie all along the coast 
to southern Florida, are very inter¬ 
esting, because they are in the first 

Beginnings sta £ es of coal making. 
of a “Coal Read our story of Coal. 

Factory If this J Qw g^Qj-g should 

drop a very little these thickly grown 
swamps would be drowned. The 
plants would fall, and the weight of 
sand and water would press and 
squeeze them into a vein of coal. 


m 


♦♦ 


74 














jr : f if*- # 


M 


4 ■ 


%■ 




The Moss That Lives on Air 


®This Ts** a *torest fM grove in Florida with the branches heavily draped with long silvery trails of 
“Spanish moss ” The fibrous core of this moss is used, among other things, to stuff cushions. 
It w?s long supposed to be a parasite living on theJuice of the trees winch .t drapes, but it ts 
now known to live on air, just as the beautiful orchid does. 

Ill 


75 















gun... mi ..... in PICTURED KNOWLEDGE «.hmumi... iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing 


How the Earth Gets Its Back Up 



Here is some sandstone near Hancock, Virginia, that started to be a mountain, but only got 
as far as you see it, so it is called by the geologist people an “anti-clinal” fold. And you have 
something right in your hand that will show you just how these folds are made—only you would 
better take a magazine to try the experiment. Hold it between your two hands and press. You 
will see that the pages will crumple up in layers much like this hump-backed rock. These rock 
crusts were pressed from both ends, because of the shrinking of the inside of the earth. 

Before the rocks were crumpled up in this way, they lay in level layers like the leaves of a book. 
It is this great book with its stone leaves that tells the ancient story of the earth and the strange 
animals that lived on it—like the queer, long-necked creature in the story of the Rocky Mountain 
States. The stone book also tells when these animals lived. In the lowest layers, of course, were 
animals that lived the longest time ago. 

Now do you suppose this rock was crumpled up in this way slowly or “all of a sudden”? 
“How can anybody tell?—nobody was there!” Yes, those wonderful geologist people know that 
it was bent slowly. They don’t guess, you notice—they think it out. And it is really very 
simple. Rocks generally break very easily, as you know, if enough power is applied to them. So 
this rock must have bent slowly, because the layers are not broken. Sometimes the top layers 
are broken, while those underneath are not. This is because the weight of the upper layers keeps 
the lower layers from breaking. 


The Fairy Land the Corals Built 

The Everglades of southern Flor¬ 
ida would make a vast coal bed, but 
they are not quite like the other 
marsh lands. They are made of thou¬ 
sands of little islands that were built 
up from the sandy sea floor of the 
continental shelf, by colonies of 
tiny animals called corals. Our story 
of “Little World Builders” tells you 
about them. The islands of the 
Everglades are covered with jungles 

Wild Life of semi-tropic plants, 

in the and between them are 

Everglades bogs, lakes and winding 

streams. Alligators, those curious 
serpents with legs, teeth and leathery 


hides, live there with snakes and 
swimming and wading birds. Blue 
heron, white egrets, purple ibises and 
flame colored flamingoes live in the 
still, dark, odorous Everglades; and 
among fruiting trees and flowering 
shrubs and vines, green parrots chat¬ 
ter and jeweled humming birds dart 
about. 

Those wee marine animals are still 
busy adding to the land. The 
“Florida Keys” is a string of nearly 
Two two thousand coral island 

Thousand Big beds, a hundred and 
Coral Beds! thirty miles long. They 

are so near together, and the water 
between them is so shallow that a 


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76 



*4 


SOUTHERN STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim^ 



railroad runs the length of them, 
from Miami to Key West. Strips of 
open water are bridged by arches of 


reinforced concrete, strong enough to 

b ‘The Land of the Sky” 


tives in writing about them. Be¬ 
tween the “Keys” and the Bahamas 
is Florida Strait. Through that the 
ocean river called the Gulf Stream 

flows out into the 


■ 




W - 




si w 
mm -M 

wm mL. 

1 1 ip 


© Keystone View Co. 

This is a scene in North 
and the two Carolinas meet, 
and imposing form. 

“A land of bright sunsets, whose glories extend 
From horizon to zenith, there richly to blend.” 


Carolina, not far from the point where Georgia 
The Blue Ridge here assumes its most massive 


withstand West Indian hurricanes. 
This is one of the most wonderful 
works of railroad engineering any¬ 
where in the world. 

The Bahamas, to the southeast, are 
When coral islands, too. It was 

Columbus on one of these, San SaF 
Landed v a d o r, that Columbus 

first landed. He found them so beau¬ 
tiful that he used up all his adjec- 


Atlantic. 

The Gulf 
Stream really 
begins in a vast 
body of heated 
water at the 
equator, between 
Africa and 
South America. 
Winds force it 
no rth westward 
into the Gulf of 
Mexico. It 
sweeps around 
these shores and 
races out into the 
Atlantic again, 
t raveling six 
miles an hour. 
Armies of food 
fishes go up with 
that warm cur¬ 
rent to the Banks 
of Newfound¬ 
land. There the 
Gulf Stream 
meets a cold 
river from the 
A rc ti c Ocean. 
That is what 
makes the fogs 
and storms on 
the “B anks.” 
Then it spreads and crosses the At¬ 
lantic. You will hear about this 
Gulf Stream again, for it brings 
warm rains to western Europe. 

But here we must tell you more 
about those coral islands. A high 
continental shelf, over which such 
a strong stream of warm water flows, 
is exactly the kind of place where 
corals can live best and build up 




77 







It doesn’t seem possible, does it, to ride through an ocean storm on a railroad train? Yet that is e 
which runs over the mainland of Florida to Key West, a distance of 130 miles, bridges long stretches ol 
tropical storms. Next to the building of the Panama Canal, the building of this road was one of the gi 
Largo, a deep lake, was discovered full of peat. It took two huge dredges fifteen months to dig out this pe 
it wasn’t so easy to deal with them as it is to sit in one of those beautiful passenger cars and look at the 
sea. Another wrecked one of the house-boats in which there were a number of workmen and many of 
fact about this great water railroad is that, like the Panama Canal, it was built entirely on total abst 

ftiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiminniiiniininniiiinmiiiiiiiiiiH^ I 


Riding Through an Ocear 


78 













""". 1 . 111 ..... . . . .......ill.....mi.in..inn.....niinuin......... . ...g 

rStorm on a Railroad Train 


(l r ou can do if you take the famous Key West Railroad and there happens to be a storm. The railroad, 

,| ;t runs over viaducts made of concrete, so solid that they can withstand the assaults of the sea driven by 
tiering enterprises in the history of the world. When the railroad was being built and had reached Key 
t jj undations could be laid. There were great storms, such as you see here, while the road was being built, and 
the window. One of these storms picked up a part of the engineering plant bodily and carried it out to 
e Irowned. Every bit of food and drop of water had to be carried in boats from the mainland. One notable 
i des, the use of alcohol in the camps of the builders being absolutely forbidden. 

it uiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip . mi .ilium......... imf; 


79 









the Waters Built 


You know how waters in times of flood break down and even carry away bridges, but did you 
know that waters build bridges? And big stone bridges like this, too, that stand for ages and 
ages. This is the famous Matural Bridge in Virginia, and this is how rain drops build such 
bridges. They are built out of massive beds of limestone. Through cracks in this stone the 
waters of the rains slowly find their way. The water contains acids gathered from the air and 
from decaying plants, and this acid slowly eats out caverns underground like the famous Mam¬ 
moth Cave of Kentucky. On the ground above the cave “sink holes” are formed, in which the 
water gathers as it does in a funnel when mother iss filling a bottle. After a while a part of the 
roof of these caverns falls in and the remaining part is a bridge between the cavern walls, so that, 
in looking through the arch of this great bridge, you are really looking into what was once a 
cavern where Indians, ages ago, used to hide from their enemies. There also, they buried their 
dead and came to look for flints for their arrow heads. 









How Raindrops Split Boulders 


:: 


Now that you know that raindrops build stone bridges, 1 suppose you are prepared ror aimos. 
anything ? But what do you think of this actual scene in a rain storm in western Texas? It 
doesn’t look reasonable, does it? Well, this is how it happened and how such things often 
happen in the history of the earth. The big rocks get heated by the hot sun of such regions, 
and then when a heavy thunder storm comes up, the water dashing on the rock suddenly cools 
it—and bang!—the rock splits. More often, simply little pieces pop off the surface and often 
sound like a series of pistol shots, What a wonderful drama that dry old geology of physiography 
is, when you get into the dramatic scenes of it! 




81 




t^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimi pictured knowledge iii || iiii | iiiii ||||||| i |||| i |11111111111 ^^ 


The Land of King Cotton 


This is the map of the cotton regions of the South. All the shaded portion grows cotton, but most 
cotton is grown in the lighter regions shown. This area grows over 80 per cent of the whole 
cotton crop. 


their branching shell villages. Col¬ 
onies of sponges live here, too, and 
sea turtles and shell fish and lovely 
rn n j sea weeds. Visitors to 

1 he Uardens 

Under Key West can go out in 

the Sea g 1 a s s-bottomed boats 

and look down on the many-colored 
gardens of the sea that swarm with 
strange, delicate and beautiful life. 

The Old South and the New 

It is hard to realize how much 
business goes on here. Trains run out 
over the water railroad. Ships go 
up and down the coast and across to 
Havana. There are tobacco fac¬ 
tories and sponge fisheries. There 
are cargoes of oranges, lemons, pine¬ 
apples and grape fruit to be sent 
north from Florida, and whole train 
loads of early strawberries and salad 
vegetables. All the way the boats 
and trains pick up their loads. 

The coastal plain always has been 


a great farming region. But until 
after the Civil War of Lincoln’s day 
the land was used only for the large, 
simple crops of cotton, rice and sugar 
cane, indigo and tobacco. These 
were easily cultivated by the colored 
people, who kept in good health in 

Business the !oW - hot > Sand y 0r 

Life Before swamp lands. Tar and 
the War turpentine, pitch and 

resin, “naval stores” that were much 
needed in days when all ships were 
built of wood, were made of the sap 
of the pine trees on the forested sand 
hills of these lowlands. Everything 
was sent down to the coast on river 
boats. 

So much money was to be made 
out of the few kinds of crops grown, 
that the planters of the South bought 
everything else they needed. They 
had waterfalls, but they did no man¬ 
ufacturing with their raw materials. 
They did not search the mountains 


^llllllllllllllllllllllllllinillllllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!llllll!!ll[llll[lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||[|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| n 


82 
























| Picking Cotton on a Missis¬ 
sippi Plantation 

Cotton picking in the South (you 
= can see the cotton fields on the 
H map of “Dixie” on the opposite 
= page) begins late in August and may 
= last until Christmas. When cotton 
H picking time comes everybody 
H turns in, because the bolls are 
H easily injured by wind or rain. 
H Children, like the one at the basket, 
= pick as much as 20 pounds in a 
m da V* while an expert picker gathers 
= as much as 300 pounds. 


SOUTHERN STATES 


for the coal, iron, lime¬ 
stone and marble that 
were there in abundance. 

Their railroads were few 

When Na- a n d pOOT. 
ture’s Wealth They grew 
L“y Idle the garden 

vegetables and fruits they 
needed, but none to sell. 

They even bought corn 
meal and flour, pork and 
beef, and apples in the North. Their 
big crops paid for many luxuries. 

That is why these southern states 
were ruined by the long war. The 
people were too dependent upon the 


North and upon European countries, 
for food, clothing and tools. Today 
they grow still larger crops of cot¬ 
ton, rice and sugar, but they also 
grow corn, fruits and vegetables 
to feed the northern cities, 
and they raise live stock. 
They have improved 
their harbors, built rail¬ 
roads for quick shipment, 
developed the lumbering 
industry, found the min- 
ep ie erals in the 

Awakening of mountains, 
the Industries anc [ put the 

waterfalls to work. We 
speak of Dixie Land now 
as the “New South.” It 
is a land of wonderful 
energy and wealth that 


The amount each one picks is 
weighed as it is brought in, in the 
baskets. The cotton is emptied into 
a sack like the one you see here 
and the sack is caught up by the 
hook of a steelyard which hangs 
from the crude framework you see. 
It looks like the beginning of an 
Indian wigwam, doesn’t it? 


Weighing the Cotton in the 
Fields 


*♦ 


3 


♦♦ 


83 















^Ill!lll!l!ll!!lllllll!l!llllllllll!!lll!ll!lllll!lll!l!ll!lll!lllllllllllllll!l!lllllllll PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


| sustains itself. 
| Do you re- 
| member the 
| Fall Line of 
| the Middle 
| States? It runs 
| on across the 
| South Atlantic 
| States, too, 
| through Roan- 
| oke, Raleigh, 
| Columbia, Au- 
| gusta, Macon 
| and Montgom- 
| ery. All these 
| are factory 
1 cities, with cot- 


A Cotton Buyer’s Sign 



This is the headquarters of a cotton buyer in the 
streets of Columbia, S. C. Notice that he has a 
bunch of cotton hung out as his sign, just as the 
fish merchant in the slums of New York City hangs 
out a fish to show that he deals in fish. 


power and | 
served by rail- j 
roads. Above | 
them the beau- | 
tiful, rolling j 
upland of the | 
Piedmont Belt | 
is so wide that | 
there is room j 
for a second j 
line of falls. | 
That line runs | 
through Spar- j 
tansburg, Char- j 
lotte and At- j 
lanta, cities as | 
busy and noisy j 


Here you see. side by side, 
H two different kinds of cotton 
H bales. The larger one is 
H known as a soft bale, and the 
H smaller is a pressed bale. An 
j§ ordinary box car will hold 
H about fifty pressed bales and 
H twenty-five of the soft bales. 


| ton and lumber mills, 
| iron furnaces, foun- 
| dries, machine and 
| railroad repair shops, 
| turned by water 



The Old Way and the 
New 


As the railroads, in hauling §§ 
cotton, charge for space and §| 
not for weight, you can see = 
the advantage of the smaller M 
bale. It is one of these small = 
bales that is shown in the lZ 
“children’s chart” at the head s 
of this story of the South. = 


as the clattering mill j 
towns of New Eng- | 
land. | 

West of these cities | 
lies Birmingham, | 



On the Way to New England 


Here we see cotton bales being loaded from a scow onto a steamer. If you will look closely at 
the name of the big boat, you will see that this cotton is on the way to the New England mills. 


♦V 


♦,* 

*♦ 


84 






















SOUTHERN STATES 


Florida Oranges 

Here we are 
looking up at the 
trees in a grove of 
sweet Valencia or¬ 
anges in Florida. 


Alabama, in the 
middle of a 
mountain district 
of coal, iron and 
limestone. So 
here is growing 
up a Pittsburgh 
of the South. So 
large is its out¬ 
put of iron and 
steel that seven 
railroads are 
needed to take 
care of its trade. 

They come down 
to it from the 
north along the 
Piedmont Belt, 
through the 

Great Valley where Chattanooga 
and Knoxville, Tennessee, lie, and 
down the plateau from cities on the 
Ohio River. Then railroads run 
from Birmingham 
to Mobile and other 
shipping cities on 
the coast. The 
workers in the mills 
and mines are the 
hardy white people 
from the mountain 
farms. 

Beautiful Scenery of 
the Mountains 

Mountain people 
always love their 
home. You would 
not wonder if you 
could see the high¬ 
er range of the 
Great Smokies, and 
the fresh, green 
Cumberlands of 
these southern 
states. They are 
not sterile and bare. 

Woods roll over 
them in billows. 


In the Grove 


This is an orange grove in which Valen¬ 
cia oranges are being budded. In budding, 
you know, a tree of just common fruit of 
any kind is made to supply the sap for a 
superior fruit. Buds are removed from 
the superior plant and inserted in a cutting 
in the bark of the common tree. Not only 
oranges, but the stone fruits, such as the 
peach, cherry and plum, are propagated 
by budding. 


Every valley is watered by bright 
streams that flash down the slopes. 
Every shelf has its cabin, and its 
corn and cotton patch. And every 

front door has its 
wide view of low 
domes, soft ridges 
and tumbling 
brooks; of sunsets 
and storms and dis¬ 
tant blue w o o d- 
lands. This moun¬ 
tain region is not 
easily to be 
matched for its 
good soil, its brac¬ 
ing climate, that is 
not too cold for 
comfort, its wealth 
of minerals, and its 
mantle of pines and 
hardwoods, that 
grow together in 
the friendliest way. 

The mountains 
reach their greatest 
height and beauty 
in western North 
Carolina. Asheville 


i g 


i- 8 


85 











:j'llll!l!lll!!ll!lllllllll!l!!l!!ll!lll!!ll!llll!!ll!iy PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

| is the center of a district that has 
j forest reserves, hotels and private 
| estates, and that is noted for its pure 
| air and water and scenery. To the 
| west, between the Great Smoky and 
| Cumberland ranges, lies the south 
| end of the Great Valley. It begins, 

| you remember, in the valleys of the 
| Hudson and Mohawk Rivers. In 
| varying width and beauty and his- 
! toric interest, it runs along the Sus- 
| quehanna in Pennsylvania, the upper 
j Potomac and Shenandoah in Vir- 
| ginia, to the valley of the Tennessee 
| in northern Alabama. 

| There are so many interesting 
| places to visit in the South, in moun- 
| tains, forests and seashore; the old- 
| est and the newest places in our 
| country, the sleepiest and the widest 
1 awake. The mill towns of the Fall 


to England, France | 
and Germany. The [ 
people lived in ease, | 
without working | 
hard, picked oranges | 
in their gardens, and | 
got into the Mex- | 
ican-Spanish habit | 
of taking a nap at | 
noon. | 

In 1900 they were | 
roused from pleasant | 
dreams by a cyclone | 
and tidal wave that | 
almost destroyed the | 
city. The Gulf rose | 
in a wall of water § 
that swept miles of | 
streets and thousands | 
of people into the | 
sea. Little was left | 
besides the great | 
trade, that, for hun- | 
dreds of miles, had | 
no other ocean out- | 
let. The day after j 
the storm, while the | 

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 


Harvesting Indian River Pineapples 



These men are gathering Indian River pineapples in Florida. The 
§f pineapples are gathered in baskets, the harvesters carrying them 
§§ on their shoulders until they reach the little narrow-gauge railway 
H running down into the field, where the baskets are put on flat cars 
= and pushed to the packing shed which you see near the windmill. 
| Pineapples ripen chiefly between the middle of April and the middle 
= of July, but there are some on the market throughout the year. 


Line are new, and the climate is so 
cool on the Piedmont Belt that it is 
not surprising that the people are 
energetic. But Galveston is a low, 
hot seaport down on the coast of 
Texas, so one is astonished by the 
story of its growth. 


The Brave Story of Galveston 


It lies on one of those barrier 
islands only a few feet above the 
level of the sea. Sometimes it used 
to be flooded by storms, but nothing 
serious happened. From the great 
plains of Texas and other states 

How Trade back ° f !t > C0tt0n and 

Made rice, wheat, lumber, cat- 

GaJveston tie anc t hides came down 

to the lagoon harbor in such quan¬ 
tities as to make traders rich. Ships 
steamed away to the north, and even 








86 



















|iiuiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiii^ .inn,,,,, SOUTHERN STATES nniiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinii 

The Lumber Interests of the South 


Lumbering is one of the great industries of 
the Kentucky River. 

| dead were drifting up on the shore, 
I and the living were unfed and un- 
| sheltered, train loads of products for 
| shipment began to pile up along the 
| harbor. 

A New Form of Government 

With wonderful courage and 
| patriotism the people rebuilt their 
| city. A sea wall of concrete, seven- 
| teen feet high and four and a half 
1 (n P miles long, now faces the 

= 1 he famous 0 . . 

1 “(jalveston Gulf. Behind it the 
| ^ an land was filled in and 

| the city lifted above the highest 
| waves. A new and simpler form of 
1 government was invented in the hour 
| of disaster. Commissioners were 
| chosen for their special ability to 
| manage public affairs, as a good 
| business is managed. This “Galves- 
| ton Plan” of government has been 
J copied by many cities in the United 
1 States. 


e South. This picture shows a raft of logs on 

Away over on the ocean coast of 
Florida is St. Augustine, the oldest 
city of the United States. It was 
built by Spanish colonists a half cen¬ 
tury before the Pilgrims came to 
Massachusetts. It is a quaint old 
town of white shell concrete, criss¬ 
crossed by narrow lanes and bright 

History in St. with oleanders. Splen- 
Augustine ’s did hotels rise above an- 
Streets cient ruins. The post- 

office is in the old palace of the 
Spanish governor; and army bar¬ 
racks are in a monastery of Spanish 
monks. Fort Marion, now a United 
States fortress, was built by enslaved 
Indians. People love to drive along 
the old sea wall, bathe on the beach, 
and sail their boats on the lagoon, 
where swaggering Spanish conquer¬ 
ors once anchored their caravels and 
dreamed of empire. 

The land itself—Florida—has a 
Spanish name, because of its flowers. 


8 ii 


ii 8 


♦♦ 


8; 






*> 

♦V 


♦V 




This picture shows a planing mill in Georgia. It takes the rough boards from the sawmill 
and makes finished products of them. 


tell you what they found, in the next 
story. But now we want to tell you 
about the lovely winter resorts of the 
Gulf Coast between Pensacola and 
New Orleans. 

All along that shore lie barrier 
beach islands, with the loveliest 
bays, sounds and lagoons behind 
them, for row and sail and motor 


nolias with their waxen blooms like 
candles, tulip trees, and numberless 
flowering shrubs and vines and 
plants in the gardens and parks of 
resort cities. Thousands of north¬ 
ern people come to the Gulf Coast in 
the winter. 

Meeting Place of Bird Travelers 

Birds that come north in summer, 


< 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Hauling Lumber on the Railroad 


♦♦ 


Here is another way in which lumber travels. These are hardwood logs on their way to 
one of the great lumber manufacturing centers, Knoxville, Tenn. 


And there are Spanish names all the 
way around to Pensacola, and also 

Notice These a l° n g the coast to Texas. 
Names on From Mobile to New 

Your NLafe Orleans the names are 
French, for it was the French peo¬ 
ple who discovered and settled the 
valley of the Mississippi. We will 


boating. Above the blue water and 
the sand beaches runs a wide white 

Lovely Bays driveway made of 
In Lovely crushed oyster shells. 
Waters That famous white shell 

drive is shaded with live-oak trees 
hung with curtains of gray Span¬ 
ish moss. And there are mag- 


A Planing Mill in Georgia 



















iiiiiim^ SOUTHERN STATES ......... 

winter along these 
warm shores and is¬ 
lands, too. The reed 
birds of the rice fields 
are the merry bobo¬ 
links of the north. 

Robins, bluebirds, ori¬ 
oles, meadow larks 
and grosbeaks rest 
here from their hard 
summer’s work, get 
fat and grow new 
coats and songs for 
nesting time. Here 
they meet the car¬ 
dinals and mockers of 
the south. 

It is a great pity 
that bird hunters come 
here for plumes to 
trim the hats of 
thoughtless ladies. So 
government and Au¬ 
dubon society bird wardens patrol miles of land, where few people live, | 
swamps, shores, islands and forest but where birds find a winter refuge | 
glades, over fifteen thousand square in great numbers. 

The Turpentine Industry i 

Above is a great pine forest ^ 
in North Carolina where |= 
turpentine is being gathered. || 
North Carolina is the chief = 
turpentine producing state. = 
The turpentine oozes out of M 
cuts made in the tree and is ^ 
caught in buckets. The sap |j 
looks much like honey, as you M 
may imagine from the color of f§ 
resin, which is what is left §| 
after the oil of turpentine is = 
distilled, as shown in the M 
lower picture. 

In February or early | 
March theSunnySouth | 
turns green and bios- | 
somy. With the spring | 
rains the mocking j 
bird floods the wood- | 
land with song. Then | 
many of the song | 
birds start north. We | 
know just what routes | 
they take, for small | 
birds fly low when j 
they are migrating. 




89 






















... PICTURED KNOWLEDGE . ........ 

A Little Load and a Poor Road 


This and the picture below illustrate what the Good Roads Movement is doing for the South 
and the great difference between the old South and the new. In the upper picture the negro 
and his mule are trying to get to town with a load of cotton bales and with the wheels of the 
wagon in mud nearly to the hubs. 


Big Loads on Good Roads 



= _ This shows cotton on roads that are now taking the place of the mud roads in the South. 

Just notice the difference between the loads of cotton carried by the wagons in this picture and 
the few bales in the wagon in the upper picture. You have to look twice to see that the negro 
= has any load at all! & 


90 












This is a typical residence street in the Jacksonville of today. It is called Palmetto Row and 
is a part of Main Street. Jacksonville, you know, is the principal business town of Florida and 
is a famous winter resort. All the principal streets of Jacksonville are wide and well shaded, and 
its commercial life is a very busy one. Among the exports are lumber, cotton, moss (such as 
we saw in the forest), oranges and early vegetables. 

gllHIIIIIIIIIIIII... HI . Illllllll .. . 111,1,11111111 . 1,11 


^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiH SOUTHERN STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

Jacksonville as It Was 


if you should happen in Jacksonville, Florida, today, you would hardly imagine its streets 
ever looked like this one. This picture shows Jacksonville as it looked before the New South 
began to find itself. The street isn’t quite so bad as the country road over which the negro is 
hauling his cotton, but it is pretty bad. 

Jacksonville as It Is 


91 


































^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilliliil^ 


A Street in the French Quarter of New Orleans 



This is a street in old New Orleans, in the French quarter. You know, France once owned 
the great territory in which New Orleans is situated and the city’s name is of French origin. 
Perhaps you have read Mr. Cable’s delightful stories about the French Creoles of New Orleans. 
If you have not, you should do so. 


The Crescent and the Crescent City 



This is a scene in the business part of New Orleans. Look over the house-tops at the bend 
of the Mississippi and you will see how the great river gave the city its name. In recent years 
New Orleans has madS great progress in manufacturing, particularly in cotton goods, cottonseed 
oil, machinery, lumber, fertilizers, sugar refining and rice milling. The city is built upon ground 
from two to six feet below the surface of the river and is protected by levees along the water 
front. It is a very cosmopolitan city. The people are of all nations, only 19 per cent bein^ 
of American or English descent. 




lllllllllllllllllllill 


92 


























IpiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiu SOUTHERN STATES lniiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiinm^ 

1 Galveston after the Flood I 


Now a new city occupies the old site. This is a model ot ”ine New uaivesion laecuy 

has built a sea wall four and a half miles long and seventeen feet high and raised the grade of 
the city to its Top. In spite of the expense of rebuilding the city’s expenses have been cut 
one-third under the commission form of government, which was first introduced by Galveston 
after the great flood. Now there are cities all over the country that are governed in the same 
way and with the same good results—honest management and efficiency. 


Here, in these two pictures, is the brave story of Galveston. We are looking at Galveston’s 
sea wall after the city was struck by the cyclone and tidal wave on September 8, 1900. One-sixth 
of the population was drowned and a third of the property destroyed. 

The Galveston of Today 














Now we are going to show 
you a series of pictures of 
the animal-life of the South. 
And first of all this picture 
of a part of a wild animal 
who lived in South Carolina 
—ages and ages ago. This is 
only his jaws. You see there 


........................ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE ......'.'... . .""" 

Wild Life in the South 


The Birds on Cobb’s Island, Virginia 


The graceful little creatures here shown are what are called least terns. There used to be 
thousands of them on Cobb’s Island, Virginia, but they were nearly exterminated before women 
came to realize what a cruel thing it is to wear a little dead bird’s body on their hats, and laws 
were passed to protect the birds. 


94 














8 


SOUTHERN STATES 

Home of the White Heron 


♦♦ 


Here we are in the home of the white heron in Florida. The white heron is another beautiful 
bird which was almost destroyed until the laws were passed protecting birds. Herons are found 
all over the world, except in the coldest regions. South America has the greatest number of 
varieties. The feathers are very beautiful. These birds stand perfectly motionless in the water 
watching for fish and frogs, which they spear with their long bills. They also eat snakes. 

The Blue Heron at Home 


This is another scene in Florida. It shows the home life of the blue heron, there are tnree 
young herons in the nest and Mother Heron is evidently talking to them about something. 

To the left, back there in the water, you see another heron watching for a frog with one foot 
drawn up in that thoughtful, reflective way a heron has. When standing perfectly straight, the 
blue heron is three feet high from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. The plumes that 
the milliners wanted are on the neck, head and back, as you see in the picture of Mother Heron. 

Illllllllllllllllllll 




95 












fSiiiiuiiuiiiiu PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiira 

The Home of the Flamingoes ff 



Here are the birds that not only walk on stilts but sit on stools. And they make the stools, 

themselves, of mud. These nests are from a few inches to a foot and a half high. The birds; 

sit on them with their legs folded under the body, not as was formerly supposed—and as you 
will see represented in some old natural histories—with their legs on either side of the nest, like 
a man on horseback. The flamingoes live in the marshes of Florida and Louisiana. They are 

rose-colored and deep red when they grow up, but white, when they are young. They have a 

funny crooked bill that is bent down in the middle. With this bill they scoop up mud and water 
from the bottom of the swamps and then squirt it through their teeth, straining out the food 
on which they live. 


Two Virginia ’Possums 



Here is a picture of two Virginia opossums just when they are busiest—at night. They hunt 
mainly at night and sleep by day. They live in trees. They are expert climbers, and when they 
climb a tree they use their tails and their hand-shaped feet very much as a monkey does. Did 
mother ever say you were “playing ’possum” when you were pretending to be still asleep in the 
morning? One of the queer things about an opossum is that when he is frightened or thinks that 
somebody is going to catch him, he stretches out just as if he were dead and his nose turns white. 














. 


■ 



■ . • - 

■ ■<> ' ■ 

illllf 

t . 

. 



v 



It was his own fault that we didn’t get a better picture of him. Crocodiles are usually very 
quiet, but this cross old thing jumped at the camera man just as he was taking his picture on one 
of the Florida Keys. You can get a very good idea, however, of his shape, his big mouth, his 
funny scales. This crocodile was 10 feet long. Sometimes they are 18 and even 20 feet long, but 
the average is 12 or 13 feet. They like to lie on the muddy banks of rivers and marshes and bask 
in the sun. Crocodiles are found in tropical regions all over the country. The crocodile of the 
Nile is the most famous. There he has a little friend called the “Nile bird, that walks into his 
mouth when he has it open (as he has in this picture—only he isn’t cross when the bird visits 
him). The reason the bird walks so fearlessly into this big front door is that he eats the leeches 
that gather on the tongue and wall of the crocodile’s mouth, just as leeches get on little boy s legs 
when they go swimming in muddy water. And the crocodile is much obliged. 


*♦ 




I^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih SOUTHERN STATES niiuiiiiiimiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiitiiinimiiiiiiiiiiiHitiiiiiiniiinunii^ 

The Home of the Pelican 


Snap Shot Portrait of a Crocodile 


Hj*- 


We are here on Pelican Island, Florida, and these are brown pelicans. What odd looking folks! 
Notice those two greedy little naked babies eating out of their mother’s mouth. They seem to 
have queer table manners—these pelicans—don’t they? But then, of course, you can’t expect too 
much of baby pelicans. 

These brown pelicans are found in Southern California as well as Florida. Their bills are a 
foot long and they have a big purple pouch. The herons are very shy, but pelicans are sociable 
not only with each other, as you see, but with people. They always live in colonies. You ought 
to see them catch fish. They sail very close to the water, rising and falling with the waves, but 
never letting the waves touch them. Then all of a sudden they make a plunge, there is a fountain 
of spray where they strike, and up they come with a pouch full of fish. Then back home the 
mother pelican goes and the babies help themselves, as you see them doing here. 


97 










In a Florida Cocoanut Grove 



© Underwood & Underwood 


You are looking into a grove of cocoanut palms at Palm Beach, Florida. Like the fruit of most 
palm trees, the cocoanuts grow in clusters. Why don’t they look like the cocoanuts you buy at 
the fruit stand? Because they are covered with an outer shell. Some of those on the ground have 
this outer shell split open. It is removed before they are shipped and is used in making a kind of 
rope. 












THE HOW AND WHY 
OF COMMON THINGS 


WINTER FRUITS 


I N no other northern country in 
the world, as in ours, is there 
such a variety of fruits in the 
market in the winter. The win¬ 
dow of a fruit store or fancy 

The Harvest ^ocery in the small- 
at the est village is a not ot 

Grocers color—of red, yellow, 

russet and purple, and inside it 
is as “perfumy” as a florist’s. 
Nearly everything, except apples, 
is grown in far away states and 


other lands. Don’t you often 
wonder where they all come 
from? 

The Citrus Fruits 

The citrus fruits — that is, 
oranges, lemons, limes and grape 
fruits—are grown in great quan¬ 
tities in Florida and Southern 
California, but some of them 
come from the West Indies, Italy 
and Spain. These fruits ripen on 




































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


♦> 


Winter Fruits from Singapore 


This display of strange tropical fruits is from 
you know? 

trees in the winter in warm climates. 
Because of their.thick, leathery skins, 
they can be shipped long distances 

Where Fruits an< ^ kept in cold storage 
Rifien in unchanged for many 
Winter months. The pineapple 

is grown in California and Florida, 
too, but great ship loads come to us 
from Cuba, the Bahamas and the 
Hawaiian Islands. A single fruit of 
the pineapple grows on a low cactus¬ 
like plant with thick, spiny, blade 
leaves. Bananas grow on palm-like 
plants, or low annual trees, planted 
as close together as corn in a field. 
Steamer loads of bananas, in huge 
green bunches, come to New Orleans 
and New York, from the West Indies 
and Central America. The fruit 
ripens in storage and in the fruit 
stores. The white grapes are cut in 
the vineyards of California in the 
autumn and packed in barrels in dry, 


the Orient. How many kinds can you find that 

granulated cork. The enormous | 
purple Hamburg grapes, each one | 
as big as a plum, are grown in hot § 
houses in England. | 

The Dry Fruits 

Of the dry fruits, raisins are made | 
from sweet grapes in California and | 
in Spain. Dried in the sun or in | 
ovens, the juices change to sugar. [ 
Dates come from the date-palm tree | 
of the deserts of northern Africa and | 
western Asia. The fruit grows in | 
c big bunches, like the ba- 1 

Travelers nana, ot ten weighing | 

from twenty pounds. Drying | 

on the tree, the juices | 
turn to sugar. The fig tree is a native | 
of hot, dry countries, too. The best | 
ones in our market are from Smyr- j 
na. “Currants” are really small, | 
raisin grapes that are grown chiefly | 
on the islands of Greece. ■ 


♦♦ 


♦ * 


IOO 









Here is a field of growing pineapple with the thatched hut of a Hawaiian field hand in the 
background. “A single fruit of the pineapple grows on a low, cactus-like plant, with thick, spiny, 
blade leaves.” 


big as buckeyes, are from Italy and 
France. Almonds are grown on a 
pretty, peach-like tree in Spain and 
"ATI tie northern Africa. The 

World in pistachio nut comes 

a Nutshell from western Asia and 

Brazil, and cocoanuts from the 
Amazon and Orinoco river forests. 
The filbert is really a large hazel¬ 
nut. It grows on a stocky bush that 


And what would the Thanksgiv¬ 
ing and Christmas dinner be without 
cranberries? Those bright red ber- 

AniCran- ries Sf ow on * trailing 
berries for plant in bogs in south- 

the ‘Turkey ern New England, New 

Jersey and Wisconsin. They are 
gathered in the autumn, solid as lit¬ 
tle marbles and can be kept in bar¬ 
rels nearly as well as apples. 




1. . . . . . . . WHERE OUR WINTER FRUITS COME FROM -I-...... 

The Meat We Find in Shells 


Of the nuts, peanuts are grown in 
| Virginia and neighboring states— 
| twelve million bushels a year, to sat- 
| isfy the American appetite. Very 
| few are sold abroad. Pecans come 
| from Texas and the southwest. Eng- 
| lish walnuts are grown in orchards 
| in California and in countries of 
| southern Europe. Chestnuts, as 


is cultivated in Turkey, China and 
India. Native hickory nuts, black 
walnuts, butternuts, small chestnuts 
and hazel nuts are usually in the 
winter markets. Another fruit of 
which we have grown fond is the 
olive. There are great olive orchards, 
of twisty, gray-green trees in south¬ 
ern California and quantities come 
to us from Italy and Spain. 


A Hawaiian Pineapple Field 


IOI 


















..mi ...immmiimiimmmnimimmmmiiMiiNimu 


3 


How Great Cities Got 
Their Names 


T HE name of the world’s larg¬ 
est city—L o n d o n—i s very 
ancient. It is thought to be Celtic— 
“Lyn,” lake, and “dun,” fort. The 
Thames was once a wide, shallow 
lake with marshy shores. Dublin is 

••AwayBack " “ the blaCk P° o1 ” ° r Iake ‘ 
in London Edinburgh is old Saxon 

Town f or “Edwin’s fort.” 

Paris was named by the Romans for 
a tribe of Gauls called the Parisii, 
who lived in a mud village on an 
island in the Seine. Rome was 
named for its mythical founder, 
Romulus. The legend is that twin 
boys—Romulus and Remus—were 
set adrift on the Tiber, and being 
cast ashore, were suckled by a she 
wolf. In “Berlin” we find the Celtic 
“lyn” or lake again. But some stu¬ 
dents of old names think the name is 
from the German “bruehl” or 
“buerhl,” a marshy place, with the 
ancient ending “in.” Vienna, nearly 
two thousand years ago, was a Celtic 
settlement called “Vindomona,” but 

•BerUn'sKame j n o!d German myths it 
Related to is called “Wien,” the W 
London s being sounded like V. 

The little river that flows through 
the city is still called “Wien.” Con¬ 
stantinople is the City of Constan¬ 
tine, named for the Roman Emperor, 
who conquered it in the Fourth Cen¬ 
tury. Far Eastern cities nearly all 
have some simple meaning. Peking 


is “the northern capital,” Tokyo, 
Japan, is “the Eastern capital.” 

City Names in Uncle Sam’s Country 

When white people began to col¬ 
onize this country they adopted 
some of the pretty Indian names, 
but they often called their new 
homes after the old ones, or named 
them for kings and nobles. Thus 
New York was named for the Duke 
of York, afterwards King James II. 
Charleston for King Charles I, and 
Baltimore for Lord Baltimore, who 
had a large grant of land in Mary¬ 
land. Boston was named for Bos¬ 
ton, or St. Botolph’s town, a seaport 

When Boston in England. New Or- 
Was Toto!fib's leans was named by the 
Town French for the Duke of 

Orleans, and St. Louis for the saint¬ 
ed King Louis XI. Philadelphia was 
the Greek name of an ancient city 
in the Holy Lands, known as the 
“city of waters.” Wherever “apolis” 
or “opolis” is added to a name it 
means city. Doesn’t it seem odd to 
find this Greek word tacked onto 
“Indian” and “Minne”? 

Chicago is the name of an Indian 
chief. San Francisco was named by 
Spanish missionaries for St. Francis 
Xavier. Of our neighbors “Mexico” 
is the name of an Aztec war god. 
Montreal is Mount Royal. It was 
named by the French. 






102 










SEEING THE WORLD 
AND ITS PEOPLE S 

CENTRAL STATES 


“The Father of Waters 
and Its Wonderful Valley 




A N out¬ 
line 
map of the 
Mississippi 

River system might easily 
be mistaken for a sketch of 
a gigantic oak tree in mid-winter. 
From its roots, that spread wide 
and bore deep into the warm wa¬ 
ters of the Gulf of Mexico, the 
A "Tree” bent trunk rises with- 
4 Thousand out branches for some 
Miles Long distance into the land. 

Then it flings out huge, twisted 
limbs, east and west, to where the 
sun rises and sets above the moun¬ 
tains that wall its wide valley. 
And hundreds of miles to the 
north, bright little lakes cling to 
the topmost water twigs like 
tough leaves that the icy gales 
could not loosen. 

The Grandest of Earth’s Rivers 

No other river in the world is 
built on such a grand and beauti¬ 
ful plan. The northern Indians 
called it Meche Sebe, “father of 
running waters.” It is not only 
the longest river, measuring over 

When the Sea f ° Ur th , 0USand 

Ran Through up to the sources ol 

the Valley the Missouri, among 

the snowy peaks of the Rocky 

Mountains, but it has the largest 



net-work of 
big and little 
waterways in 
the world. It 
drains a million and a 
quarter square miles of fertile 
land, the warmer, rainier, southern 
j half of the great continental valley 
of North America, that extends 
from the Gulf of Mexico to the 
Arctic Ocean. Long after the 
mountains were raised this valley 
was still below the sea. The Gulf 
flowed through as an ocean strait 
that was narrowest at the northern 
end. There were two groups of 
mountainous islands, where the 
Black Hills of Dakota and the 
Ozark Highlands of Missouri and 
Arkansas are today. 

This central valley is still very 
low. On the water parting west 
of Lake Superior, where four big 
river systems rise near together, 
and flow away in four directions, 

Let's Wind tlle land > S 011, y S ‘ X - 
Our Way teen hundred and 

to the Gulf eighty feet, or a third 

of a mile above the level of the 

» _ 

distant oceans. The Mississippi 
descends the gentle southward 
slope of fifteen hundred miles; but 
it winds about so much that it 
travels nearly three thousand 
miles to reach the Gulf. Don’t 








db 

w 

‘DO’ 



103 




































































































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

How the Rocks Parted Company 


© Detroit Publishing Co. 

How do you suppose that big rock got out in 
the next picture? 


the water? Can you think it out before looking at 


you want to follow all its lovely 
"length? 


The Beginning of Our Journey 


At first you would have to use a 
| canoe, as Hiawatha and Minnehaha 
| did, on their wedding journey “from 
| the land of the Dakotas.” Where it 

| Eighty‘River flows 0ut of Lake ItaS . Ca , 
| that is ‘Bom in a wilderness of pine 

| a 'Brook woods, wild rice and 

| tamarack swamps, in Northern Min- 

| nesota, the great Mississippi is only 

| a rippling brook, twelve feet wide. 

| The state has made a wild park of 

| the beautiful lake country that gives 

| birth to our mighty river. 

Below the lakes the widening 
| crystal waters, bordered by bluffs, 
| rush down many rocky rapids. In 

| Big Jump its short > u PP er course, it 
| and then drops seven hundred feet 
| a Ramble to the Falls of St. An- 
| thony, and Minnehaha, the “Laugh- 
1 ing Water,” that turns the flour mills 
| of Minneapolis. So, from St. Paul 
| to the Gulf, a distance of twenty-two 


hundred miles, the river has a fall 
of less than a thousand feet, or about 
five inches to the mile. 

All the way down to Natchez, 
Mississippi, the current is parted by 
green islands, and bordered by 
Here's the grassy prairies, wooded 
"BigMuddy" bottom lands, or by near 
or distant lines of bluff. The water 
is clear over its rocky bed down to 
where the Missouri pours in its 
muddy flood. And after the Ohio 
joins it the river is nearly a mile 
wide. Its banks, built up of the 
mud many streams have brought 
down, are higher than the land on 
either side. Through a sort of gut¬ 
ter in the top of a narrow, winding 
ridge, the tawny waters sweep on, 
a thing of majesty and terror. 

It loops about low rises, washes 
out soft banks, cuts across its own 

What Franks wide bends > tears trees 
this River from the earth, and 

cpia v s melts miles of crumb¬ 

ling soil like so much sugar. Below 
Baton Rouge, the capital of Louis- 


g 


104 

















I 5 "" 11 "" 1 "" 1 . . . . . . . . ...»»» CENTRAL STATES .»... inn. . . .. img 

| Work of the Waves in Apostle Islands, Lake Superior I 



You see the waves keep beating away at a rocky headland until they wear hollows or caves in it. 
Then these caves break through, leaving a natural bridge like the one in the second picture. But 
the restless water is not satisfied with this. It keeps on dashing itself against the rocks until it 
has completely worn away the connecting bridge. Many islands are formed in this way. 


iana, not the tiniest hill is to be seen. 
Behind the sugar plantations are cy¬ 
press swamps and cane brakes, 
threaded with marshy lakes and 
streams. Through three spreading 
prongs of outlets the river pushes to 
the Gulf, across a swamp of bottom¬ 
less mud. 

The Mississippi and Hudson Compared 

A branching river mouth like this 
is called a delta. -There are only 
two kinds of rivers. An estuary, 
rrn like the Hudson, has one 

5 Mississippi wide, deep mouth filled 

Spreads with sea water. A delta 
river carries its tresh 
water to the ocean through several 
shallow channels. Its harbor, if it 
has one, will be found above where 
it divides. The lowest port of the 


Mississippi is New Orleans, a hun¬ 
dred miles up from the Gulf. 

The people of Louisiana speak of 
this wide delta region as the “Mis¬ 
sissippi Coast.” When white explor¬ 
ers first sailed along this coast they 
thought the outlets were small riv¬ 
ers. Entering the Gulf many miles 
apart, they were choked with mud 
bars and driftwood. That is why 
the Mississippi was not discovered 
from the sea. A Spanish explorer 
found it by going overland from 
Florida. More than a hundred years 
later a French explorer found it 
again, by coming out over the Great 
Lakes from Canada. White voyag¬ 
ers used pirogues, or dug-out tree- 
trunk boats, and kept close to the 
banks. No Indian ever ventured on 
the lower Mississippi in a frail 




♦« 


105 





PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiini 11 ! 

in river engineering was Mr. James 
is so enor- B. Eads. He also built the first 
ze could not bridge across the wide and shifting 
il the outlets flood, at St. Louis. He had to dig 

The Mississippi at St. Paul 


© Detroit Publishing Co. 

From a “rippling brook, twelve feet wide, in a wilderness of pine woods, wild rice and tamarack 
swamps in northern Minnesota,” the Mississippi has become a broad, swiftly flowing stream when it 
reaches the busy, bustling city of St. Paul, which it has helped to build. 

had been deepened and cleared. A down one hundred feet through soft 
great engineer plowed and dug out mud, to get a solid foundation for 
the bottom with wheels and dredg- his stone piers. Then he had to de- 
MississM in g buckets. Then he How EaJs sign the first long iron 

Set to lined the banks with Built His arches ever used in 

Scouring t hi C k, woven willow mat- "Bridge bridge building. It is 

tresses, sunk and braced with timber half a mile long, took four years to 
piles. These he weighted with build, and cost nearly seven million 
broken stone and capped with ce- dollars. The Eads Bridge and 
ment. Unable to wash the protected jetties were as great wonders in 
banks, the current was obliged to their day as the Panama Canal, 
scour its bed deep. Walls like these Building that bridge was like Co- 
are called “jetties.” On ocean or lumbus' standing an egg on end. 
lake harbors they are “break wa- Other engineers were able to do that 
ters.” It took years of work and trick again when Mr. Eads had 
cost millions of dollars to jetty the shown them how. Bridges span the 

Mississippi, Ohio, Missouri and 
other large tributaries, today, wher¬ 
ever they are needed. Canals have 
been cut around falls, and dams 
thrown across streams, in countless 
big and little towns, the length and 
breadth of the valley. But all that 


The Great Bridge and the Levees 

The man who did this great work 




»,♦ 

♦♦ 


CENTRAL STATES 


& 


work has been easy beside the ques¬ 
tion of what to do about floods. 

Two hundred years ago the 
French settlers of New Orleans were 
obliged to pile up an artificial bank, 
or levee, to 



“Sometimes the waters rise so high that they burst 
dams, run over or break through levees, and flood cities 
even on small northern streams. Then people are 
drowned, property is destroyed, and thousands of square 
miles of land are flooded.” You can see some of the 
wreckage caused by the flood at the edge of the water. 


| keep the town 
| from being 
| washed away 
| b y high 
| water. St. 

| Louis, and 
| other cities, 

| were built 
| mostly on the 
| bluffs. But 
| their ware- 
| houses, whole- 
| sale business 
| streets and 
| freight yards, 

| had to be 
1 down on the river banks. The rich- 
| est farming lands for sugar and 
| corn, were in the river bottoms, too. 
I D In the southern states the 

^ Kaising 

| the ‘River flood plain is quite sixty 

| Walls miles wide. So sixteen 

| hundred miles of levees had to be 
| built on top of the banks, clear up 
| to Cairo, Illinois, and up the lower 
| tributaries. 

In most years these levees protect 
| the towns and farms behind them. 
| But sometimes the waters rise so 
I mi high that thev burst 

| Floods Break dams, run over or break 

| Through through levees and flood 

1 cities even on small northern streams. 
| Then people are drowned, property 
| is destroyed, and thousands of 
| square miles of land are flooded, 
| from St. Louis, Pittsburgh and Kan- 
| sas City to the Gulf. 

The Forests and the Floods 

We must get at the causes of these 
1 floods in order to stop them. They 


The Work of a Flood 




were not nearly so bad before the 
forests were cut down. And it is the 
Ohio River that makes most of the 
trouble. The Ohio is not as long as 
the Missouri, but it has many more 

branches. You 
see, the east¬ 
ern part of the 
valley gets 
more rain 
from the Gulf 
and the Great 
Lakes, than 
the western. 
When the 
snow goes off, 
and again 
during spring 


rains, all 


those big and 
little feeders 
of the Ohio 
are bank full at once. Then floods 
of water pour down to the already 
swollen Mississippi. 

To Control the Floods 

To control the floods it is pro¬ 
posed to reforest the head waters of 
the streams, make reservoir dams 
among the hills; build the levees 
higher and water-tight; and cut 
across big bends to shorten and 
Why the straighten the river and 
Ohio Makes give it a swifter flow. 
Trouble Dredging would clear 

the channel, and miles of the softest 
banks would have to be jettied like 
the Passes. That would take hard 
work, years of time, and it would 
cost mints of money. But it would 
keep flood waters within the banks 
and make two hundred and fifty 
streams, or sixteen thousand miles 
of waterways, deep enough to float 
large steamers. Every part of this 
big valley would be connected by 
water with New Orleans and the 


8 


107 






jjiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw^ 


other parts on the Gulf of Mexico. 

The Valley in Pioneer Days 

The valley is just as interesting as 
the river that drains it. Only a lit¬ 
tle more than a century ago it was a 
beautiful wilderness, the country of 
Safe in the pioneers that very old 
Wilderness people tell so many sto¬ 
ries about. The eastern part of the 
valley was covered with forests. 
Everywhere, from the Lakes to the 
Gulf, people had to make clearings 
in the woods and build log cabins. 
Forests ran around the Gulf shores 
to Texas, and around the Great 
Lakes to Dakota. 

The grassy prairies began in Illi¬ 


nois. From there the treeless 
plains climbed slowly westward to 
the Rocky Mountains, all the way 
from Western Texas far 
the ‘Prairies up into Canada. Even 
Are Treeless on the high, dry plains, 

where.the few large rivers cut deep 
beds, there were belts of woodland 
along the streams. It is thought that 
the prairies were once forested, too, 
and that the Indians, who were more 
numerous in this rich valley than in 
any other part of America, burned 
the trees to make pastures for the 
herds of buffalo, elk and deer. 

Much of the land in the Missis¬ 
sippi valley was ready for the plow, 
and for grazing cattle. Travel was 
easy, both by land and water; 
and railroad building was 
much less difficult than in the 
mountainous states of the East. 
There was, besides, such a 
variety of soils, all good, and 
of warm and cold temperate 
climates that people and do¬ 
mestic animals kept in the best 
of health, and all the valuable 
food crops and the great tex¬ 
tile crop—cotton, could be 
grown in enormous quantities. 

The Chief Crops 

Rice and sugar are the 
chief crops of the low, moist, 
rich, coast and river soils of 
the southern part of the valley. 
North of these are corn and 
cotton. Corn is grown in the 
bottom lands of big and little 
streams, and on the most east¬ 
ern of the prairie lands, up to 
the Great Lakes. The famous 
“Corn Belt” runs from Ohio 
to Nebraska. Cotton is raised 
on the higher, drier lands, 
from Mississippi and Texas to 
Missouri and Kentucky. 


Loading Grain at Chicago 



© Underwood & Underwood 


Here you see grain being loaded from the great 
elevators at Chicago into a whaleback boat. These 
boats are used a great deal for carrying grain. As 
you see, they have a big carrying capacity, and be¬ 
cause of their shape they offer but little resistance to 
wind and water. The chief disadvantage in using 
them for long voyages is the lack of space for quar¬ 
ters for the crew. Can you see why they are called 
“whalebacks?” 







^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiii CENTRAL STATES iniiiiiiiniiiiim^ 


At the Stock Yards Chicago 



Here are several thousand cattle from all over the great Mississippi Valley and the great cattle 
regions of the West and Southwest, herded together at the Stock Yards, Chicago. There are two 
hundred in the pen in the foreground. 

Putting Up Beef in Bales 



Every bit of available meat from an animal is used. In the above picture are blocks of beef scraps 
pressed into bales. They are in the refrigerator room awaiting shipment. The temperature of the 
room is very low as you can see by the frost on the ammonia pipes which run along the ceiling. 
Ice is no longer used in the great cold storage rooms for meat, but an arrangement of ammonia pipes 
takes its place. Ammonia is also used in manufacturing artificial ice. It produces a low tempera- 
ture by its habit of evaporating very readily. 











■jr 


^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih^ 

| A Kansas City Park 


r . - A 



Kansas City is one of the “cities out on the Missouri River to take care of the wheat, corn, and 
cattle, a distributing center for goods that farmers need.” You can see it in the distance. 
In the foreground is one of the city’s parks with a' white road running through it, which was once 
a part of the old Santa Fe trail leading to California. 


£s 


Wheat runs in a continuous field 
from Kansas to far up into-Canada, 
and eastward to Ohio. 

In the group of states north of the 
Ohio and Missouri, up to the Great 
Lakes, are grown the largest and 
most varied food crops of any re¬ 
gion in the world. Corn, wheat, 
oats, rye, hay, flax, potatoes, garden 
vegetables and orchard fruits, are 
grown in enormous quantities. And 
here is supported the greatest num¬ 
ber of cows, pigs and chickens, giv¬ 
ing meat, milk, butter, cheese, eggs 
and poultry. Upper Michigan, Wis¬ 
consin and Minnesota still have room 
for forests as vast as those of Maine 
and Eastern Canada. 

Look at the small lakes scattered 
over those states. Some 
are found as far south 
as Northern Illinois and 
Indiana. Minnesota has five thou¬ 
sand big and little sheets of water. 


In the 
Land of the 
Lakes 


Wisconsin is a fairy land of softly 
rounded, green and tree-shaded hills 
and deep, water filled pockets. This 
lake region is the summer resort 
country of the central valley. 


Why the Valley Is So Rich 

Lakes, you know, are the pretty 
calling cards of glaciers. The ice 
sheet that buried the northeastern 
states, came down to the Ohio river 
here. It filled the land deep with 
A Food fine gl ac i a l drift scoured 

basket for out of the Great Lakes, 
the World as did western New 

York. Such soil is porous, holding 
water for dry periods; and the 
countless rivers and creeks that cross 
these states have had their valleys 
built up with the mud of thousands 
of spring floods. No wonder that, 
with their cold winters, long warm 
summers and abundant rainfall, 
these states have healthy, energetic 




i io 










iCENTRAL STATES 


♦v 


j How Uncle Sam O. K's the Products of Mississippi Farms | 


All meat shipped from state to state must have the Government’s seal of approval on it. Here 
you see two inspectors putting their “O. K.” on hog carcasses before shipment. The living animals 
are also inspected for traces of disease. 


In the picture above an inspector is testing smoked hams. He has thrust a knife into the ham 
and can tell by the odor whether the ham is in good condition or not. See his badge of office—a 
shield instead of the star which the policeman wears. 


HI 















“The cities on the Great Lakes are where they can stop boat and train loads of wheat, cattle, 
railroad docks at Duluth extending out into Lake Superior. The queer little cars you see standing 
Valley products are loaded on lake steamers. 


people and animals, and are able to 
produce food for the hungry mil¬ 
lions of the East and Europe. 

As if that wasn’t good luck 
enough, these states have a cheap 
water route over the Lakes to New 
York. Railroads run from them to 
eastern and southern seaports, to 


the wheat and cattle country of the 
West and Northwest, and even across 
the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific 
Coast. So here we find the richest 
and most thickly peopled part of the 
valley. In their manufacturing and 
trade they rank with the Keystone 
states; but they produce their own 




i^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

I ORE dock; 


I 12 
















A T DULUTH 



,pper and iron ore." Duluth is one of the cities that has grown uo for this reason. Here are some 
! carry iron, copper, and other things to the ends of the piers, from which these upper Mississippi 


| materials of manufacture, in wheat, 
| corn, lumber, iron ore, copper for 
| electrical supplies, and they have 
| coal, oil, natural gas and water falls 
| to supply power. 

Try Building Up These Cities 

Here’s a game to play. Take an 


outline map of the Mississippi and | 
Great Lakes valleys and see if you j 
cannot put in the cities where they | 
ought to be. All the way up to Ten- | 
nessee there must be river ports to | 
ship out the sugar and cotton. There j 
should be some cities out on the Mis- | 
souri River to take care of the wheat, | 

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIW 









PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


| corn and cattle, and as distributing 
| centers for goods that farmers need. 
| Do you find some? The Ohio River 
| needs a few big cities. The Falls of 
| St. Anthony on the upper Missis- 
| sippi, are in the middle of the wheat 
I A Good district. So that is where 
| Game you might expect to find 

| to Play a fl our milling city and 

| shipping port. Grand Rapids, on 
| the edge of the Michigan lumber 
| country, makes furniture. Colum- 
| bus, Ohio, and Indianapolis, Indi- 
| ana, have grown to be large manu- 
| facturing cities because it was easier 
| for many railroads to go through 
| than around them, and they are near 
| coal and natural gas fields. The 
| cities on the Great Lakes are where 
| they can stop boat and train loads 
| of wheat, cattle, lumber and copper 
| and iron ore. So they turn these 
| into flour, meat, steel, pianos, auto- 
| mobiles, electrical supplies and 
| countless other things. 

Chicago is the largest city of the 
| valley and the second largest in the 
| country because it stands at the head 
| of Lake Michigan. Here, in the 
| very richest part of the valley, water 
| and land travel begins and ends. It’s 
| “change cars”—or boats—for people 
| and goods, at Chicago, no matter in 
| which direction they are bound. 


The Treasures Hid in the Ground 


It isn’t so easy to place the min- 
| erals as the cities. You think of 
| minerals as being found in moun- 
| tains. So it is not surprising that 

| The Hunt g ol d and silver are in 
| for the the Black Hills, and lead 

| 5 Minerals and zinc j n the Qzarks. 

I A glance at the map will show you 
j that the coal, oil and gas fields of 
| Ohio are really in the foothills of 
| the Allegheny Mountains of Penn- 
| sylvania. But it puzzles a good 


many grown people to find copper 
and iron on the shores of Lake Su¬ 
perior, in upper Michigan and Min¬ 
nesota; coal in the low river valleys 
of Indiana and Illinois, and salt 
beds and petroleum in Kansas, Ok¬ 
lahoma, Louisiana and Texas. We 
will have to try to account for these. 

Do you remember that there was 
iron and copper in Canada, north of 
Lake Superior? The Great Lakes 
lie in a long, wide valley of those 
old Laurentian Highlands. Their 
basins were filled with water by the 
glacier. Ridges of these oldest 
mountains of the continent appear 
south of Lake Superior. They make 
the cliff-like shores of the “Pictured 
Rocks.” They have been worn down 
to their roots, so that some of the 
iron-ore beds lie on the surface, and 
are worked like stone quarries. The 
copper is still buried deep, but it is 
very pure and in great quantities. 
The mines furnish copper wire for 
the electric lighting, telegraph, tele¬ 
phone and trolley lines that cover 
these northern states. 

Salt beds are supposed to mark 
the places of dried up dead seas; 
and coal, petroleum and gas, the fuel 
minerals, were made on swamps that | 
bordered the sea. Trace a line with | 
me, and we’ll find an old seashore | 
far up in this valley. There is coal 1 
on the entire western slope of the | 
Appalachian Highlands. Coal, oil | 
and gas are in Pennsylvania, Ohio | 
and Indiana; coal in Illinois, Iowa I 
and Missouri. There is salt in Ohio | 
and Kansas, then oil from Kansas | 
to the Gulf. | 

That circling line marks the shore | 

The Ancient Gulf of Mexico | 

Mississippi after the ocean strait | 

Sea had been closed and | 

filled in northward of the Missouri | 
River. The warm Gulf Stream swept 1 


















CENTRAL STATES 

Sunset on Mackinac Island 


Sunset on Mackinac Island in the straits between Lake Michigan and Lake Huron is always beau¬ 
tiful. Here the setting sun, hidden by the clouds and houses, is gilding the pebbles and waves with 
its radiance. See how the waves break into foam, though they are not high like those of the ocean. 


around that shore, in what the geol¬ 
ogists call the “Mississippi Sea/’ 
After the coal was laid, the eastern 
shore was lifted into mountain 
ranges. The northern and western 
shores were not. 

This shore must have been some¬ 
thing like that of the South Atlantic 
and Gulf States of today. It had 
swamps, sandy islands, forests of 
trees with oily sap like the pitch 
pines, moss covered bogs, and even 
coral islands and coral everglades 
like Southern Florida. The Ohio 
River falls over an old coral reef at 
Louisville. The chambers and gal¬ 
leries of Mammoth Gave, and other 
caverns of Kentucky and Southern 
Indiana, are pillared and walled 
with coral lime-rock. These caves 
are among the most curious, inter¬ 


esting and beautiful natural won¬ 
ders of the world. 

The Beauty of the Great Valley 

The Mississippi Valley has not the 
scenic grandeur of mountainous or 
ocean-washed lands, but it has beau¬ 
ties of its own. It has blue, inland 
seas, glacial lake and forested coun¬ 
try, bluff-bordered rivers, park-like 
meadows and hundreds of miles of 
growing crops. The prairies have 
the beauty of space, and sweet winds 
blowing free over billowy waves of 
grass and flowers. 

The writer will never forget 
Dakota under three feet of yellow 
wheat, and again under seven feet 
of dazzling snow; nor a vacation on 
an Oklahoma corn, cotton and cattle 
ranch in August. Day after day 










PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


the sky was a burning gold and 
blue, fleeced with white. The air 
was so clear, one could pick out the 

grandeur of wa tch tower and college 
Southern buildings of a town five 

S^ es miles away. At four 

o’clock nearly every afternoon, thun¬ 
der clouds as black as ink boiled up 
in the south. After the storm a mil¬ 
lion golden stars were out 
in a vast dome as blue as 
indigo, and all night long a 
cool breeze blew from the 
distant Gulf. 

It is only fair that this 
warm sea should give its 


summer rains to the valley from 
which it takes so much. T he great 
river system washes enough fine 
-rr « i earth down to the ocean 

Valley and 

Gulf Work every year to cover two 
Together hundred and fifty square 
miles of land a foot deep. It has 
filled its flood plain, and pushed its 
delta of bottomless mud two hun¬ 
dred miles out into the Gulf. Like 
a magical horn of plenty it 
pours its crops and its miner¬ 
al and manufacturing wealth 
into the markets of the world, 
and it spills its inexhaustible 
soil wealth into the Gulf. 


The Great Lakes 

Lorado Taft is the sculptor of this group of five graceful maidens 
representing the Great Lakes. It stands near the Art Institute of 
Chicago, on the shore of Lake Michigan. Can you tell which lake each 
figure stands for? At the top is Lake Superior pouring her store of 
water into the bowl held by her sister, Huron, below. Another sister, 
Michigan, is also emptying water into the same basin. Erie is waiting 
to catch the stream that falls from Huron’s tilted bowl, and will, in 
turn, pass it on to Ontario, who is stretching out her arm toward the sea. 























w 


A RIVER system is the easiest 
thing on the map to under¬ 
stand. You can see the many 
streams running into one main 
channel that carries all their 
waters to the ocean. A moun¬ 
tain system is puzzling unless 
you have a relief map or, what 
is really better, unless you build 
it up of modeling clay or wet 
sand. 

How to Study Mountain Systems 

As a base for the mountains to 
rest upon, you should heap up 



a long plateau, with two sloping 

! level top. Mountains do not spring 
up singly, nor from a low plain or 
valley. All the ranges, peaks and 

The March domes of a system rise 
of the from a table-land 

Mountains Like columns of sol¬ 
diers they march in one general 
direction, although there are al¬ 
ways stragglers that fall out of 
rank, companies on the flanks, 
flying scouts and sentinel peaks 
that guard the way. 




.1. 

m 


W 

‘3D’ 



117 

































































































4l<» 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


Try first modeling our eastern 
mountains. They are built on a very 
simple plan. Their base is an ele¬ 
vated belt of land about three hun¬ 
dred miles wide, in its widest parts, 
that runs from eastern Canada to 
northern A 1 a- 
bama. From the 
top of the pla¬ 
teau rise a num¬ 
ber of low, par¬ 
allel ranges, that 
are much broken 
by water gaps. 

Each range has 
a different name, 
as has each 
branch of a riv¬ 
er system. Beau- 
tiful peaks, 
domes, knots of 
mountains and 
even foot hills 
have their own 
names, too. All 
of them, togeth¬ 
er with the pla¬ 
teau on which 
they rest, form 
the mountain svs- 
tern called the 
Appalachian 


Highlands. This 
will help you un¬ 
derstand the far 
greater and more 
varied Highlands that fill the west¬ 
ern part of North America from 
Alaska to Panama. The 
Appalachians plateau base is a mile 
and the above sea level, or 

Cordilleras higher than all but the 

highest peaks of the Appalachians. 
In its broadest part, where it is a 
thousand miles wide, it fills one-third 
of the United States. 

Far back from the eastern and 
western borders of this plateau rise 


The Gentle Creature on 
Our Right 

If you had been traveling in Wyo¬ 
ming in an early day—say a few mil¬ 
lion years ago—one of the interesting 
animals you might have seen from your 
car window would have been the gentle 
creature who is looking at us here. For 
the diplodocus was gentle—not a beast 
of prey like its enemy, the flesh-eating 
dinosaur. Several portions of skeletons 
of these creatures have been found in 
Wyoming. They are distant cousins of 
one of the residents of Florida—the 
crocodile. The diplodocus is thought to 
have been the largest of the strange 
reptile animals of that far off time. The 
tail is supposed to have been used for 
two purposes—to switch at its enemies 
when they became annoying, and also 
to help it stand upright in the water, 
where it spent a good deal of its time 
taking refuge from its enemies, feeding 
on the little fish and other food floating 
in the water. The formation of the 
teeth suggest that they may have been 
used as a sieve—much as the whale 
catches food with its “strainer.” Its 
long neck enabled it to keep its head 
above the water. With all four feet 
resting on the ground it could put its 
eyes and nostrils into the air in water 
five or more fathoms deep. Haven’t 
you often noticed a turtle floating about 
in a little creek or pond with its nos¬ 
trils just above the water? 


I The 


lofty mountain walls, with snowy 
crests, towering peaks and the cones 
of dead volcanoes. These moun¬ 
tain walls are separated by hun¬ 
dreds of miles of semi-desert pla¬ 
teau that is crossed by scattered 

ridges of bare 
rock. Lost and 
lonely rivers 
flow at the bot¬ 
toms of the gorg¬ 
es they have cut 
across high 
plains that are 
parched for lack 
of water. There 
is room here for 
a gray, ash and 
cinder filled pla¬ 
teau ; for a sunk¬ 
en basin dotted 
with salt lakes 
and crusted with 
snowy soda; for 
seas of purple 
sage flowers, and 
sand wastes of 
thorny cactus. 
And on the steep 
slopes and in the 
broad valleys that 
front the Pacific 
Ocean, there is 
still room for a 
fairy land of 
fresh rains, no¬ 
ble forests, foaming cascades, green¬ 
ery and bloom. 

The Cordilleran Highlands 

Most people speak of this region 
as the Rocky Mountains; but you 
can see that the Rockies are only the 
eastern ranges of the Cordilleran 
Highlands. The front range of the 
Rockies springs abruptly from the 
edge of the mile high grassy cattle 
plains, in cliffs, with many peaks 


118 










An Early Resident of Wyoming 




In the days when the diplodocus lived in Wyoming a great body of water extended into the 
land and the diplodocus, like other animals of the reptile family, spent a large part of his time 
in these waters. 













«r 


&; ... iiiii .him PICTURED KNOWLEDGE ». mm .....liming 


| that rise nearly three miles above 
| t ^ e the l eve l of the sea. In 

| Giants Spring the United States there 
| From the is only one partial break 
I ‘Plains i n this lofty wall for 

| hundreds of miles. That is where 
| the North Platte River flows out of 
| a high pass to join the Missouri. 
| There the Union Pacific Railroad 
| finds, at a height of eight thousand 
| feet, the lowest route to Salt Lake 
I City. 

This Platte River Pass divides 
| the Rockies of the United States in- 
| to two watersheds, on which all the 
| rivers of the plateau rise, to flow 
| away east, south and west. One of 
| these lofty knots of mountains is in 
| the neighborhood of Yellowstone 
| Park, Montana. The other is in 
| central Colorado. In both places 
| are tangles of ranges, cross-ridges, 
| spurs, peaks and high-walled val- 
| leys called “parks.” Northward 
| the mountains bend westward, ex- 
| tend out to the Bitter Root range 

I A Tangle of an d begin to crowd to- 
| Ranges, Peaks gether into the tumbling 
| and 5f>urs sea 0 f f ores t and glacier 

| draped elevations of the Canadian 
| Rockies. In the middle region 
| the Uinta cross range makes a 
j gigantic bridge to the Wasatch 
| mountains, whose long line looms a 
| mile and a half high above the 
| basin of Great Salt Lake. South of 
| Colorado the Rockies trail away in 
| lower ranges to Mexico, and merge 
| westward into the plateau of the 
| Colorado River. 

The Rockies are well named. All 
| of their summits show jagged sky 
| lines of naked rocks, with slopes so 
| steep that soil cannot form upon 
| them, nor trees find standing room. 
| And they lie so far back from the 
| Pacific, behind the Sierra Nevadas 
| and Cascades, that they get little 


moisture, and that, in the winter | 
months, comes in the form of snow. | 

The Wild Sky S° the P^ ne anc * cedar j 
Line of forests of the south are m 

Naked Roches scanty, the trees small, § 

and cottonwoods are found only | 
along the narrow valleys of streams. | 
In the north, where the ranges are | 
nearer the ocean and there is more | 
snow, many slopes are forested to | 
the crests with the Douglas firs of | 
the Canadian Rockies. | 

Westward from the Rockies the | 
semi-desert plateau stretches to the | 
Sierra Nevadas and Cascades, from 1 
Canada into Mexico. The rivers | 
that cross it gather their waters on | 
the two watersheds of the Rockies | 
and drop in beautiful, foaming tor- | 

The Vast PJa- rents - Flowing across | 
teau and Its nearly rainless plateaus | 
Rwer Gorges they have few tributa- | 

ries, wear their beds only on the | 
bottoms, and water no broad and j 
pleasant valleys. 


On the Firing Line of the Dead Volcanoes 

In another story we will tell you 
about the Grand Canon, or gorge, 
of the Colorado River, one of the 
natural wonders of the world. In a 
quite different way the Columbia 
River is as interesting. Its plateau 
fills the region between the Bitter 
Root range of the Rockies and the 
Cascades, and extends southward 
into northern California. All the 
land, even the mountain wall on the 
west, was lower at one time than it 
How the is today. The rain had 

XhlfaTthe not been shut away, but 
Lands the Cascades were be¬ 

ing lifted as the earth shrank and 
wrinkled, and built up by flows of 
melted rock, ashes and cinders from 
volcano cones. 

You can find these old volcanoes 
on your map—Mount Baker, Rain- 




si 


nt'j 


120 








4 # 


ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES 


*> 



On the Firing Line of 
the Dead Volcanoes 


MONTAN- 

[DAHO" S y 

'•irx" 



NEVADA UTAH 







“Imagine this line of volcanoes when they were all spouting dreadful fires. They buried two 
hundred thousand miles of country under lava, some of it four thousand feet deep.” The map 
shows where these lava beds are. The double dotted line indicates that the boundary of the 
flow has not been determined. = 


| ier, Hood, Shasta, and smaller ones, 
| in a north and south line along the 
| mountain crest, from Canada to 
| California. Mount Shasta stands 
| ten thousand feet above its plateau 
| base, a beautiful cone shingled and 
| ridged with gray lava rock, and 
| today, mountain climbers go up 
| these peaks and look over ash- 
| strewn ruins into bowl shaped cra- 
| ters that were once bubbling caul- 
| drons. Imagine this line of volcan- 
| oes when they were all spouting 
| dreadful fires. They buried two 
| hundred thousand square miles of 
| country under lava, some of it four 
| thousand feet deep. 

The Columbia River and its trib- 
| utaries had to cut new beds across 
| the lava plateau. The Shoshone 
| Falls of the Snake River plunge 
| over a gray lava cliff. The lower 
| parts of many gold bearing streams 
| were filled, leaving fresh water 


t: 


lakes dammed in mountain valleys. | 
See what a cloud of bright lakes j 
there is on the mountainous bound- | 
Th e Vol- ary Oregon and Cal- | 

canoes, <Rivers ifornia. When the § 
and Lakes Cascades were lifted to | 
their present height, the volcano j 
fires died down, but the lava filled | 
plateau behind them was left almost | 
rainless, because the clouds carried j 
by the winds from the Pacific now | 
drop their rain on the western | 
slopes. 

The Empty Bowl of the Vanished Lake | 

The Sierra Nevada Mountains | 
were lifted too, but they had no j 
such volcanic eruptions. Eastward j 
from them to Great Salt Lake and | 
down to the Colorado plateau is a | 
vast depression, or sink, called the | 
Great Basin. Parts of it are below j 
the level of the sea, and so far south | 
that they are sun-parched deserts. | 

5 


12 I 




















^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE ;iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii»ih^ 

1 A Volcanic Dike and Plug i 








- >' : i 


These two formations were caused by lava flows in Colorado. The first is a “plug,” formed 
when the lava runs into a hole in rock which weathers away, leaving the more resistant lava 
rock in the form seen here. 

The “dike” at the right is made when lava flows into a crack in weaker rock and is left in a 
wall-like ridge, like that in the picture, when the surrounding rock crumbles. 


One long trough in 
southeastern Cali¬ 
fornia has the 
dreadful name of 
Death Valley. 

At one time this 
Basin was filled 
with a great fresh¬ 
water lake. When 
the rains were shut 
away the lake 
dwindled, leaving 
water only in the 


Volcanic Bombs 


Some volcanoes pour out lava in a steady 
stream; others are explosive, throwing lava 
and rocks high in the air. Volcanic bombs 
like these are masses of hot rock that have 
been rounded by their swift passage through 
the air. Many of them are to be found in 
this region of old volcanoes. 

The Lava Plateau in Oregon 


deepest hollows. 
Having no outlets 
getting little fresh 
water and constant¬ 
ly losing by evapo¬ 
ration, these lakes 
have become filled 
with salt and the 
alkali minerals, that 
are all through the 
earth. Great Salt 
Lake has six times 
as much salt as sea 


When lava flows evenly from a volcano, instead of being shot into the air, it builds up a plateau. 
It has done this in Washington, Oregon and Idaho. The picture shows the surface of part of 
this plateau. Fissures like the one in the foreground are sometimes caused by movements in the 
hot lava underneath, after the outer surface has cooled and solidified. 


122 










Illllllllllllllllllllhl1111 ^ ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim^ 

Looking Across Mount Hood Glacier | 



© Keystone View Co. 

Mount Hood, in Oregon, is one of the highest of these dead volcanoes. It now has a glacier 
masking the lava beds near its summit, which you can see above the ice boulders in the foreground. 


Climbing Mount Olympus 



For those who enjoy mountain climbing, the Rocky Mountains offer a countless number of 
steep and difficult ascents and scenery rivalling that of the Alps in breathless beauty. Can you 
distinguish the women from the men in this party? 



123 


















j^iiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiii ||| ii | i || i | i |||| i |||||| m 


Mount Corcoran 



glacial deposits, or it may be held in its mountain valley by an avalanche heap. The trees on the 
wooded point show that the local climate is not extremely rigorous, for this is below the timber 
line. The peak rises above the snow line and is clad in ice and snow, where the slopes permit. 
Its height and general form tell us that it is made of some resistant rock like granite. The 
mountain is being attacked by creeping ice and leaping waters, by weather and wind, by alternate 
freezing and cooling, by day time expansion and nightly contraction, so that rock fragments are 
breaking away and sliding down the slopes. The mist around Mt. Corcoran indicates that moisture¬ 
laden winds are sweeping over the peaks and passes, having their inevitable water vapor condensed 
to fog, cloud, rain or snow in the coolness of the heights. Even the water in the air aids in the 
decay and crumbling of the mountain rocks. After long ages these processes will wear down the 
peaks and make the mountain lower and lower, until finally it will be reduced to a group of low hills. 


been killed. A million dollars worth § 
of borax is taken out of this desert | 
every year. The rich mines of the | 
Comstock Lode and Goldfields were | 
found near Carson City, in the low | 
Humboldt Sink. To work these 1 


Mt. Ranier and the City of Tacoma 



Mount Ranier is one of the most beautiful mountains in the whole system of majestic peaks 
and ranges. Here you see it, with the city of Tacoma in the foreground. The insert shows 
Mt. Fujiyama, Japan’s sacred mountain. Notice the striking resemblance between the two. 


water. Numbers of lakes have lost 
all their water. In their dry beds 
are found thick layers of salt, soda 
and borax. Much of the surface of 
the Great Basin is so crusted with 
the alkalis that all plant life has 


♦.* 

♦♦ 




124 













^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim 

| Harvesting the Crops of Inland Seas | 


♦ ♦ 


© Underwood & Underwood ... . , .. , , . 

“Numbers of lakes have lost all their water. In their dry beds are found thick layers of salt 
soda and borax. Much of the surface of the Great Basin is so crusted with alkalis that all plant 
life has been killed. A million dollars worth of borax is taken out of this desert every year. 


♦♦ 


An inland sea like the Great Salt Lake once stood here. Now it has evaporated, leaving a 
thick deposit of salt. There are many such regions in the western deserts. The picture shows the 
salt being collected in piles. 


A Twenty-Mule Team Hauling Borax 











aiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...... PICTURED KNOWLEDGE ..... 

A “Reclaimed” Farm 


| mines, water had to be brought down 
| from Lake Tahoe in the Sierra 
| Nevada mountains. 

H The Great Work of Irrigation 

A fine farming region is being 
| made here by irrigation works. Salt 
| and soda dissolve readily, and are 
| quickly leached out of the soil and 
| carried down into the earth as soon 


Irrigating Alfalfa 




Alfalfa is the great crop for improving land and making money at the same time. Here is 
a vast field of it crossed by a branch from the main irrigation ditch. 


r 



“Most of the soils of these great highlands are wonderfully fertile and need only water to 
make them grow most of the food plants of the Mississippi Valley. Thousands of acres of land 
are being reclaimed for orchards and gardens.” This is a sugar beet field alongside its irrigating 
ditch. 

as enough water is supplied. By 
building dams across mountain val¬ 
leys to hold back melting snows, a 
mining town of twenty-five hundred 
people is supplied with pure water, 
and thousands of acres of land are 
being reclaimed for orchards and 
gardens. 

Most of the soils of these great 
highlands are wonderfully fertile, 


an 


a 


126 




















11111111111 ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES muni 

A Home Won from the Desert 


The pretty, rose-covered cottage with flowers and shrubs growing around it, stands on what 
was once barren desert. It is another example of what irrigation accomplishes. 


,and need only water to make them 
grow most of the food plants of the 
Mississippi valley. The 
dry plains, east of the 
Rockies, are filled deep 
with the sandy loam of mountain 
waste. The surface of the lava 
plateau has been crumbled into dust 
by wind and frost, and is full of 
the minerals that plants need for 
food. 

Long ago the Indians of the 
Colorado River plateau, and the 
Spanish Missionaries in Arizona, 
t • , • j New Mexico and South- 

Irrigation by 

the Indians ern California built dams 
and Spaniards to m ake artificial lakes 

in the mountains, and led water 
down through canals and ditches to 
make green oases in the cactus des¬ 
ert. On the edge of the Great 
Basin, a large farming district was 
reclaimed about Great Salt Lake, 


with torrents from the Wasatch 
mountains. Sparkling snow-water 
flows in the gutters of the tree- 
shaded avenues of Salt Lake City, 
a place of more than one hun¬ 
dred thousand people that has 
flour mills and fruit canneries. 
Denver started as a little, hungry 
and thirsty mining town at the 
eastern foot of the Rockies. By 
boring artesian wells, water was 
found in rock pockets. Mountain 
snows had sunk far down into the 
earth and flowed out under the dry 
plains. More water was brought 
down and a big green city, in the 
midst of gardens, has grown up as 
a railroad center for the rich min¬ 
ing region of Colorado. Every town 
on these highlands, except a few at 
the falls of rivers, has had to climb 
or bore for water. 

In many places while water was 


Changing a 
'Desert Into 
a Rich Garden 


12 7 














Ciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED 

[ to be had, and the land was worth 
| reclaiming, the cost was too great 
I for colonies of farmers and miners 
| to undertake the work. This had 
| to be done by the national and state 
| governments. In sixteen states now, 
| from Kansas to California and 
| from Idaho to Arizona there are 
| great irrigation works. Enormous 


KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin^ 

tant markets. As fast as they can | 
produce food, it will be needed to | 
feed a growing mining population, | 

Varied f° r 1 a r S’ e S ^ [ 

Wealth of the and richest mineral re- | 

Minerals gi 0 n G f the world. Many | 

mines are worked now, chiefly of | 

gold, silver and copper, and many | 

more will be opened when food and | 




The Transformation of the Desert 



In the above, the little farm is as neat and trim and thrifty looking as any upon the rich river 
bottoms of Indiana or Illinois—yet it stands in the midst of what was thought to be useless Colo¬ 
rado desert. 


dams have had to be built high in 
mountains, and long tunnels, aque¬ 
ducts, canals, water gates and 
ditches. The city of Los Angeles 
has built water works from Mount 
Whitney in the far away Sierra 
Nevadas, to supply over three hun¬ 
dred thousand people, and to irri¬ 
gate thousands of acres of orange 
groves. 

The World’s Richest Mineral Region 

These irrigated lands will not 
have to ship their products to dis¬ 


wat e r are more plentiful. There 
is also quicksilver, platinum, nickel, 
mica, lead, zinc, iron, coal, petro¬ 
leum, salt, borax, marble, and some 
gems like turquoise and garnets in 
these mountains. Some day there 
will be millions of busy and pros¬ 
perous people in the eight Rocky 
Mountain and plateau states that 
now have a population about equal 
to that of Chicago. 

It does seem strange that this 
region, which is so vast, so sterile, 
so scantily peopled, and that has 


*♦ 




123 










^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES iiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw 


The Roosevelt Dam 



© Keystone View Co. 


The Roosevelt Dam, on Salt River, near Phoenix, Arizona, is one of the: largest and best 
works of the United States Reclamation Service. It is 1.125 feet long and 125 feet wide, and the 
water controlled by it supplies 190,000 acres of land. The water held in check here is used to 
generate electrical power enough to supply towns a hundred miles away. 


An Irrigation Trough for Oranges 



© Keystone View Co. 

At the side of the picture is a built-up trestle for carrying a stream of water across a valley. 
Below are orange trees that can grow in the midst of the desert because of the water brought to 

them in this way. 














:*:i 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

What Irrigation Accomplishes 


♦ # 


Above is a district known as the Warren Flats in Wenatchee, Washington. The picture was 
taken in 1903, when land sold at $125 an acre there. The farms were few and crops scanty, 
you see. = 


This picture shows the same district in 1909, after being irrigated. Land is worth $1,500 an 
acre and the countryside is covered with fruit trees and dotted with farm buildings. Telegraph 
poles and haystacks have sprung up where formerly there were none. The increase in the value 
of the land proves that irrigation more than pays for itself. 


130 



























3 


ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES 




| but one railroad from north to south, 
| —one that runs from the copper 
| mining country of Montana to Salt 
| Lake City,—should be crossed from 
| east to west by five 
| great railroads—■ 

| continental lines. 

| Let us take a trip. 

| and find the rea- 
| son for them. 

Two of these 
| roads cross the 
| northern row of 
| states, two the 
| southern, and one 
| uses the Platte 
| River Pass. No 
| matter which route 
| you take your 
| train climbs up 
| hundreds of miles 
| try to the wall of the Rockies. Up 
| that it scrambles, loops around 

| Interesting peaks, skirts precipices, 
| Tri^s by Va- runs through tunnels 
| rwus < R° utes and snow sheds, spins 
| over dizzy trestle work and plunges 
| through forests. Along the south- 
| ern route you would see moun¬ 


tain ridges of bare rock in sunset 
colors, in sandy wastes of cactus; 
rug and basket-weaving Indians 
in the villages of sun-dried 


A Fine Type of Indian Womanhood 


©Fred Ilnrvey 

of prairie coun- 


brick, and old 
Spanish towns 
settled from Mex¬ 
ico three hundred 
years ago. You 
would see many 
tracts of irrigated 
fruit lands, cross 
the canyon of the 
Colorado, and 
ride over burning 
sands to the flow¬ 
ers and orange 
groves of south¬ 
ern California. 

In the center 
and north you would see flocks and 
herds, cattle, wool and sheep mar¬ 
kets ; snowy peaks, high-walled 
‘‘parks/’ thick forests, smelting 
works and stamp mills for treating 
gold, silver and copper ores; lum¬ 
ber mills and iron works at falls, and 
little mining towns perched on ledges, 
or dropped in valleys. You might be 


An Indian’s Desert Home 






w&k- 


*. t* ■ 


* #■ 


* Jl._ 


h 


- -T -• -v j 


This Indian house of clay and stone is built in the midst of the blistering, shadeless desert 
It is a crazy flimsy-looking structure. The Indian woman at the right .is returning from . a 
long trip to a spring with her jar of water on her head. It is a struggle just to keep alive in 
such a place. But with irrigation, hopeless looking regions like this can be turned into neat, pros¬ 
perous little farms. 












© Keystone Viexc Co. 

“Your train climbs up hundreds of miles of prairie country to the wall of the Rockies. Up 
that it scrambles, loops around peaks, skirts precipices, runs through tunnels and snow sheds, 
spins over dizzy trestle work and plunges through forests.” 

Climbing a River Valley 


;.;ii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiS 

| Climbing the Colorado Mountains | 


=§ © Keystone View Co. 

“The mountain walls are separated by hundreds of miles of semi-desert plateau that is crossed 
by scattered ridges of bare rock. Lost and lonely rivers flow at the bottom of the gorges they 
have cut across the high plains that are parched for lack of water.” Here the railroad is using 
one of these gorges and has run its tracks along the side of the river. 


♦ ♦ 


V 

♦♦ 


132 





t""'. 1 . . .. ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES in. mi ..... nil .m...mi.. 


‘‘Broncho Busting" 



The cowboy on his rearing, plunging, half-wild pony became typical of our Western States, 
and, “Broncho Busting”—breaking the young horses to the bit and saddle—became the cow¬ 
boy’s dangerous pastime. Times have changed now and the West is not nearly so wild and 
primitive, but cowboys still find pleasure in “busting” bronchos. 


so lucky as to see a bighorn sheep 
bounding up a cliff, or a bear hunt¬ 
ing for berries. You would be sure 
to see prairie-dog villages, the salt 
lakes with snowy salt shores, the 
alkali deserts that sparkle as with 
frost, or the gray lava plateau. In 


passes, long lines of snow appear as 
shining banks of cloud. Bright 
lakes nestle in green folds on the 
scarred flanks of volcanic cones. 
Then the trains drop down a west¬ 
ward slope through dense forests of 
enormous trees. In winter the world 



Cattle on the Oldest Ranch in Arizona, the Siena Bonita 



© Underwood tfc underwood 


these forbidding regions of purple 
sage, mesquite and greasewood, you 
would be surprised to come upon 
irrigated wheat, alfalfa and potato 
fields, and vast apple orchards. And 
then you would come to another 
grim mountain wall of bare rocks. 

As the trains climb the high 


is apt to be veiled in drizzling mists. 
When the sun comes out the drip¬ 
ping woods seem to roll down in 
green billows and to flood the wide 
and watered valleys. 

All those railroads find business 
on the dry plains, in the Rockies 
and across the plateaus today, but 



133 











PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

The Sheep Raising Industry 


© Keystone View Co. 

Here are three thousand sheep 

they were built chiefly to reach the 
three rich states that border the 
Pacific. From the crest of the Cas¬ 
cades and Sierra Nevadas to the 
ocean, in California, Oregon and 
Washington, is a belt of land nearly 
two hundred miles wide by more 
than twelve hundred long. This is 
a kingdom in itself, for it is larger 
The Big than most of the great 

Kingdom of countries of Europe that 
the Pacific support fifty million 

people. The mineral and vegetable 
wealth of this strip, its varieties of 
delightful climate, its soils, forests, 
scenic beauty of mountains, and its 
long ocean front opposite Japan 
and China, make it a wonderland. 

It now has great cities of the first 
rank, and a population larger than 
that of all the other states of the 
highlands. And now that the 
Panama Canal is open, and trade is 
growing on the Pacific, no future 
that can be predicted for these 
states seems too exaggerated. 

These states extend farther north 
than do those of New England, but 
they are not nearly so cold. A chill 
stream of water does come down the 
coast from Alaska, but it is tem¬ 
pered by the Japan current that, 
like the Gulf Stream in the Atlantic, 


grazing on a mountain side. 

was born under the equator. The 
winds are from the west in winter, 

Where Cali- anc ^ blow over waters 
fornia Gets that are warmer than the 
Her Chmate land. Winter is the rainy 

and growing season. 

In southern California and to the 
southward, the winds are off shore 
so there is little rain. But the cli¬ 
mate is as warm as Florida, the air 
dry and pure, and, by irrigation, 
Los Angeles and other prosperous 
cities have grown up in the midst of 
orange groves and vineyards. The 
people of the Atlantic Seaboard and 
the Mississippi Valley eat California 
oranges, lemons, grape fruit, rais¬ 
ins, prunes, grapes, olives, nuts and 
delicious canned fruits. 

Where the Big Trees Grow 

The forests begin in a thin fringe 
of small trees along the low coast 
range in the south. From Mount 
Whitney, in the Sierra Nevadas, 
whose snows supply the fruit coun¬ 
try with water, the forests thicken 
and widen northward, until they 
run back to the crest of the Rockies 
and cover the mountains of British 
Columbia. In the Yosemite Val¬ 
ley of central California are found 
groves of the giant sequoias or “big 


= 




♦♦ 


134 








ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES 


Washington Grapes 

Fruit is one of the best crops of the mild, sunny Pacific Coast. Staunch Westerners declare 
that nowhere else can such delicious fruit be made to grow. 


In the' Land of Plenty 


Washington is Famous for Apples 

This pile of apples extends down the center of a Yakima Valley orchard, 
at the right shows how thickly the apples grew on the trees. 


The loaded branch 


135 

























^IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIW PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiu^^^ 

1 Acres of Plum Blossoms H 


Here are miles of plum trees, a mass of billowy, white bloom, 
dried and sold as prunes. 


They bear plums that will be 


For Your Rice Puddings 


The raisin grape-vine grows low on the ground and the raisins are dried by the warm California 
sun, in the field where they are picked. Here you see countless trays of them in rows between 
the vines. 


136 










f" ... 111111111 . .. 111111 . . . ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES .■. am.at .....mu.. 

Sixty-Five Acres of Hops 



© Keystone View Co. 

Hops is another one of the crops that this fertile and resourceful region grows successfully. 



Snow and Oranges 


Here is a California orange grove, with the yellow fruit ready for picking, and Old Baldy, 
1,000-foot snow-capped mountain peak, in the distance. 


:: 


137 












t*#iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE i |||||| i | i ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||,||||| m^ 


Farming on a Huge Scale 


If there were always as many potatoes in a hill as in this field, small boys wouldn’t object 
H nearly so much to having to “dig the potatoes for dinner.” 

^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiii^ 


© Underwood & Underwood 


It takes thirty-three horses to draw this combination harvester. 
A big wheat field at Walla Walla, Washington, is being harvested. 


An Irrigated Potato Field 











ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES 




trees of red cedar. The red-wood 
forests cover the lower lands of 
northern California. In Washing¬ 
ton and Oregon all the slopes are 
densely clothed with Douglas firs 
and other cone-bearing trees. 


try woke up to the value of forests. 
More than one hundred forest re¬ 
serves, and most of them in these 
western highland states, have been 
set aside by the government. The 
states, too, have made forest and 

Lumbering on the 
Columbia 

In regions where there are 
no railroads or other means 
of cheap and easy transpor¬ 
tation, the rivers are used to 
float timbers to market. In¬ 
stead of pitching the logs 
into the water in a higgledy- 
piggledy mass, they have 
here been chained together 
in a huge raft. The raft is 
floating down the Columbia 
River and contains millions 
of feet of timber. 


s © Underwood & Underwood 

You would think that such bil- 
| lowy oceans of trees as are here 
| never could be used up. But the 
| mines have used enormous quanti- 
| ties of timber for props, and the 
J railroads have stripped forests for 
|. ties, telegraph poles, water tanks, 
| stations and bridge timbers. Every 
| mining town and city has needed 
| lumber for building, furniture and 
| packing cases. Think of the fruit 
| boxes alone! And now, paper is 

| Distribution being made, and lumber 
| and to ship to treeless dis- 

| Conservation tr j c t S i n the SOllth. In 

| the lower valleys and slopes trees 

| began to disappear; luckily just 

I about that time the whole coun¬ 


park reservations, 
and have strict laws 
to regulate lumber¬ 
ing and prevent the 
waste of trees. 

The Great Central 
Valley 

Between the low, 
coast ranges that are 
seldom more than a 
half mile high, and 
the Sierra Nevadas 
and Cascades, whose peaks and 
cones, nearly three miles high, are 
lost in the clouds, runs a valley that 
is quite fifty miles wide. In Califor¬ 
nia this valley is watered bv the 

* J 

San Juan and Sacramento rivers 
that, flowing together, cut a water 
gap in the coast range, making a 
beautiful, mountain rimmed bav 

Coast Cities harbor for San Fran- 
and Their cisco. In Oregon this 
Harhors valley is drained bv the 

Willamette, that drops in falls and 
joins the Columbia, which is navi¬ 
gable a hundred miles back from the 
coast. So here the city of Portland 
has a harbor, and water power for 
its lumber and flour mills, tanneries 


139 










..... PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii | iii | iiiiiiiiiii^^ 


Mountains of Southern California 



The flume, which follows the valley, is used in transporting logs from the forest to a sawmill 
half a mile farther down the valley. The bare rock to the left of the stream was stripped of 
all its soil during the Glacial Period. The trees that grow here and there survive through having 
their roots in a joint crack where a handful of soil has collected, . and access to underground 
water gives them temporary sustenance. The forest upon which the lumbering operations depend 
is doubtless upon some gentler slope like that in the background. 

A Lumber Yard on the Plains 



“Every mining town and city has needed lumber for building, furniture and packing cases. 
Think of the fruit boxes alone! And now paper is being made, and lumber to ship to treeless 
districts in the South.” 


8iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin 


140 

























I""..... . . . . . ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES .....mi........... 

The Fire at Rawhide 


The insert shows a fire raging in Rawhide, Nevada. The picture shows the town after the fire 
There is practically no town left. 

Rawhide Ten Days Later 


This is Rawhide ten days later. The activity and enterprise characteristic of Western people 
have been at work and a new city has sprung up to take the place of the one that disappeared. 




- '/■■•'w/v -'y''.' 


mm, 




: 








$ " < % ■ 


$ IPS 












..min. [mm .... PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iBiiiiniiiuiimiiiiiraranimiiiiiiiinniiiiimiiiimraiiiminiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

Where the Delicious Squabs Are Raised | 



© Keystone View Co. 

Because there is no long, cold winter to endure, the coastal region is an ideal place for all 
sorts of poultry. The picture shows a pigeon farm at feeding time. 


and other factories. In Washing¬ 
ton, Puget Sound, a large and wind¬ 
ing arm of the ocean, penetrates the 
valley, and makes a land-locked 
harbor for Seattle and Tacoma that 
would float a navy. 

In the South there are tropical 
fruit lands to supply the entire 
United States, served by two rail¬ 
roads to the east, and north to San 
Francisco, and by the harbor of San 
Diego which is nearest of all to the 
Panama Canal. In the drier lands 
are cattle and sheep ranches, with 
stock raising and dairying all along 
the coast ranges. The wheat fields 
begin in the Sacramento valley and 
run to Canada. Hay and hops and 
sugar beets are grown, and the low¬ 


er slopes of mountains, as in British 
Columbia, are blossomy with apple 
orchards. Every town in the valley 
r? ■ has water-power driv- 

r arming, m 1 

Dairy and ing flour and lumber 

OrchardLand m ip s> canneries of fruit 

and salmon, packing houses, rolling 
mills, machine shops, smelting 
works, tanneries and furniture and 
box factories. San Francisco refines 
the raw sugar from the Hawaiian 
Islands, to supply the fruit can¬ 
neries. 

Out of the three great harbors of 
these coast states, are shipped their 
farm products and manufactures, 
and other things brought by rail 
from the east. The mining towns 
of Alaska are supplied with food, 




142 























i . 




111 . . . iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii||| iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih 

Raising Turkeys and Chickens by the Thousand 


This shows a flock of young turkeys in the San Joaquin Valley. There are thirteen hundred 
of them in this field. 

1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIINIIIIMMIIIIIW 


This is a pile of egg shells from the incubator house of a Western poultry farm that turns 
out one hundred thousand young chicks every three weeks. 












ani 


© Underwood & Underwood 

Here are two fuzzy, yellow and white, downy baby ostriches just out of their shells* A 
mother ostrich does not lay a nest of eggs and then sit on them until they are hatched as the 
hen does. Three or four ostriches lay their eggs in one nest and then take turns hatching them. 
Additional eggs are laid near the nest and broken for the baby ostriches when they hatch, so 
that they will not have to look for food. California has many ostrich farms. 


144 










^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiH 

“Two Whoppers” 


Here is another sort of crop of which the Pacific Coastal Region gathers a big harvest- 
fish. This pretty girl works in one of the great fish canneries. 

In a Western Cannery 


Here are hundreds of cubic feet of salmon, canned and ready for shipping. 


3 * 















JJiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. liltlllllll.illilllllllllllllllilllll . mini . mu PICTURED KNOWLEDGE .. mill ...iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. mt| 

I Seining for Salmon i 


The top of the seine is marked by floating wooden blocks. 


clothing and machinery. Gold is 
sent back, and by and by there will 
be coal fleets, for Alaska has vast 
coal fields. Ships from Asia fetch 

The Traffic tea > rice > silk > COtton, 
at pottery, spices, rugs and 

the Ports the curious manufac¬ 

tures of the Far East. Wool and 
mutton come from Australia and 
New Zealand, and manila hemp 
from the Philippines. 

There are some people still living 
who can remember when gold was 
discovered in California in 1849, an d 
when the Union Pacific Railroad was 


pushed out across the desert plateau, 
in 1872. It is only a little over a 
hundred years ago that explorers 
followed the Missouri Valley up to 

The Wonder- the watershed in_the 
ful Growth of Rockies and crossed to 
California th e Columbia. The rapid 

peopling and development of this 
distant coast and the arid highlands 
is a marvel of the age. Its discovery 
and exploration, its points of historic 
interest, its regions of scenic beauty 
and natural wonders that have been 
set aside as national and state parks, 
give material for another story. 


*v 


Ready for the Cannery 



Read the story about “The Harvest of the Sea” to find out the part played by the North¬ 
western States in the fishing industry. 


♦♦ 


I46 















This big eagle lives on both the eastern and western shores of the Pacific. It is brown and 
white, with a bright yellow beak. It is four feet long and the spread of its wings is six feet. 
Can you tell how it is different from the inland eagle, our national bird? 


147 











iiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 



The Big California Condor 



The big California condors have almost disappeared from the rocky ledges where they formerly 
lived in great numbers. These birds are both homely and disgusting. Their necks, above the 
scraggly ruff of feathers, are bare, and they live on carrion. Settlers in the West poisoned the 
wolves to protect their sheep, and most of the condors have been killed off by eating the poisoned 
wolf carcasses. 


Summer Visitors to California 



Many long-legged, duck-billed water birds make the marshes of San Joaquin Valley their 
home during the summer. Here is a group of them. 










. . . . . . .. ROCKY MOUNTAIN STATES hi . i* . mil* . linn . . . . . . . mini 


The Prairie Chicken at Home 



Prairie chickens are ground birds because there are no trees in their home—the western plains. 
They squat on the ground instead of roosting at night, and are colored to match the dry, brown 
prairie grass. The males have orange-colored pouches or air-sacs at the sides of their necks. 
One of their strange habits is to inflate these and utter loud booms, arrange their wings and 
tail as the foremost one in the picture is doing, and pat the ground with their feet. These exhibi¬ 
tions are not for the benefit of the females, two of which can be seen at the left, but they seem 
to come from sheer vitality and energy. The males sometimes fight desperate battles, like the 
one going on at the right, in which the prairie chickens fight as viciously as game cocks and 
strew the ground with feathers. 


Life in the Arizona Desert 



This reproduction of a bit of Arizona desert is in the American Museum of Natural History 
in New York. Not only the typical desert plants—cactus, sage-brush, mesquite, etc., are here 
shown, but also the birds that make the desert their home. 


149 





The Spirit of the Mountains 


By John Ruskin 

Who has interpreted so wonderfully what we may call the Spirit of the 
Mountains as Ruskin? Take, for example, the following: 

CHARACTER IN CLIFFS 

The cliff can neither be bowed by the shower, nor withered by the heat; it is 
always ready for us when we are inclined to labor; will always wait for us 
when we would rest; and, what is best of all, will always talk to us when we are 
inclined to converse. With its own patient and victorious presence, cleaving daily 
through cloud after cloud, and reappearing still through the tempest drift, lofty 
and serene amidst the passing rents of blue, it seems partly to rebuke, and partly 
to guard, and partly to calm and chasten, the agitations of the feeble human soul 
that watches it; and that must be indeed a dark perplexity, or a grievous pain, 
which will not be in some degree enlightened or relieved by the vision of it, 
when the evening shadows are blue on its foundation, and the last rays of the 
sunset resting in the fair height of its golden Fortitude. 

% V 

THE MOUNTAINS AND THE AIR 

The second great use of mountains is to maintain a constant change in the 
currents and nature of the air. Such changes would, of course, have been 
partly caused by differences in soils and vegetation, even if the earth had been 
level; but to a far less extent than it is now by the chains of hills, which, 
exposing on one side their masses of rock to the full heat of the sun (increased 
by the angle at which the rays strike on the slope), and on the other, casting 
a soft shadow for leagues over the plains at their feet, divide the earth not 
only into districts, but into climates, and cause perpetual currents of air to 
traverse their passes, and ascend and descend their ravines, altering both the 
temperature and nature of the air as it passes, in a thousand different ways; 
moistening it with the spray of their waterfalls, sucking it down and beating 
it hither and thither in the pools of their torrents, closing it within clefts and 
caves, where the sunbeams never reach, till it is as cold as November mists, 
then sending it forth again to breathe softly across the slopes of velvet fields, 
or to be scorched among sunburnt shales and grassless crags; then drawing it 
back in moaning swirls through clefts of ice, and up into dewy wreaths above 
the snowfields; then piercing it with strange electric darts and flashes of moun¬ 
tain fire, and tossing it high in fantastic storm-cloud, as the dried grass is 
tossed by the mower, only suffering it to depart at last, when chastened and 
pure, to refresh the faded air of the far-off plains. 



THE HOW AND WHY 
OF COMMON THINGS 

WATER SUPPLY OF CITIES 


Millions of Dollars 
for a Glass of Pure Water 




One of London’s Big Town Pumps 

My, what a spout! Forty million gallons of water a day pours through it into the 
Chingford reservoir, which is one source of London’s water supply. The “spout” of course 
is a big . pipe that connects with the pumping engines in the waterworks. The Chingford 
reservoir has five such pumps. 


How Big 
Cities Get a 
Drink 


T HERE is one big city of 
over three hundred thou¬ 
sand people, in our country, that 
had such a hard task to do, to get 
enough water, that you would 
think it would have 
given up trying to be 
a city. It is lovely Los 
Angeles, California, in the dry, 
varm region where the orange 
jrchards have to be irrigated. The 
learest pure water, in large enough 
quantities to supply the one mil- 
ion people the city expects to 


4*^=' k&x) i £EEES : ® == c 



have, to put out fires, water parks 
and lawns and streets, and to irri¬ 
gate 75,000 acres of fruit lands 
just outside, was in the Sierra 
Nevada mountains, two hundred 
and forty miles distant and sev¬ 
eral thousand feet toward the 
clouds. To get that water $25,- 

$ 25 , 000,000 000,000 would have 

for Good to be spent. Just to 

Water begin to get it one 

hundred and twenty miles of rail¬ 
way had to be built across moun¬ 
tain and semi-desert country, 




151 
































giuninnw^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE niminininmniiiiiiiiinnimnniiimiiniiiiiiiiiiniinmnmnmimiim^ 


How Water is Made to Pump Itself 



This big water wheel, seventy-five feet in diameter, is at Hama, an ancient city on the Orontes 
River in Syria. It is moved by the flow of the water passing beneath it. Around its outer rim are 
buckets which fill with water and empty into the aqueduct above by the turning of the wheel. 


twice as long a telephone line put duct been built. New York City gets 
in, and an electric power plant its water in the Cascade mountains, 
and cement works How Nature Makes Water Pump one hundred and 
budt. Five thou- Itself twenty miles 


sand laborers were 
employed. 

Twenty-two miles 
of canal had to be 
dug, one hundred 
and fifty-two miles 
of cement-lined 
mains laid, 
twenty-nine miles 
of tunnel bored 
and a steel siphon 
fourteen miles 
long carried over 
gorges. Then two 
big reservoirs, or 
artificial lakes 
were built, cover¬ 
ing twenty-two miles. 

Not since the days of ancient 
Rome has any such gigantic aque- 



This picture illustrates one of Nature’s ways 
of making water pump itself; and the water 
comes out of the spout in gushes, very much 
as it does from a pump. The outlet is a nat¬ 
ural siphon, and when enough water has run 
into the cavity to raise it to the level of the 
top of the siphon, the water runs out until the 
cavity is empty. Then no more water gushes 
from the spring until the cavity fills up to the 


level of the siphon again 
intermittent springs. 


This is the secret of 


away. The cost of 
the system was 
$167,000,000, but 
that was due to 
the fact that nine 
villages had to be 
bought and de¬ 
stroyed, to turn a 
series of high val¬ 
leys into a vast 
lake. 

You see where 
many people are 
crowded together 
there is not 
enough water un¬ 


derneath to sup- 1 
ply wells, and if there was, the water 1 
would be unfit to drink. So much | 
poisonous waste would drain into I 


*♦ 


«« 


152 









Illlllllllllllllll,llllllllllllllllllllll!ll,llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll,lllli ^ 

Like a Giant Serpent 


This is a part of the steel siphon fourteen miles long that was carried over gorges in the Los 
Angeles system of water supply. The flow of water through the siphon depends on the air pressure 
on the lakes from which the city is supplied. 


iS3 




iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim^ 

New York’s Water Supply 



This dam of masonry holds the water in a reservoir in the hills high above the valley below. 
It is called the Croton Dam and is part of the system of reservoirs that furnish New York City 
with water. 


The Wilmington Filter 



Wilmington, North Carolina, was formerly a very unhealthy city. Among other things, its water 
supply was poor. In the course of a general cleaning up of the city’s health department, the 
water supply came under the control of the municipal government, and this filtration plant was 
put in. Now, few cities have as pure water as Wilmington. Most cities have only settling reser¬ 
voirs, where only a portion of the impurities settle to the bottom. 





























WATER SUPPLY OF CITIES 

An Arabian Watering Place 


. 


m 


I 


: 


This picture shows a group of Arabian horsemen at a watering-trough outside a city wall. i| 

The scarcity of water in the Orient and the great labor and expense of reaching water veins in the 
earth renders a well extremely valuable. In Arabia special attention is paid by the wealthy and 
benevolent to the refreshment of travelers, and public watering places like that shown in the illus¬ 
tration are provided in various places along routes of travel. The eminent German historian, 
Niebuhr, in the course of his travels in preparation for his work, tells us how, on one of the moun- g 
tains in Arabia, he found three little reservoirs always kept full of fine water for the use of travelers. 

In India, where kindness to animals is a part of the religion of the country, jars of water are 
attached to the boughs of trees, which are kept filled every evening to supply the birds with fresh 
drinking water. The Bible makes numerous references to the precious character of pure water. For ^ 

will rise in pipes as high as its | 
source. But from lakes, rivers and | 
wells the water must be raised by | 
steam pumps into reservoirs or wa- | 
ter towers. This is the source of j 
water supply of most cities. j 


The Water-Drinker j 

0, water for me! Bright zvater for me! j 

It cooleth the brow, it cooleth the brain, | 

It maketh the faint one strong again; 

It comes o'er the sense like a breeze from the sea, | 

All freshness, like infant parity. j 

Fill to the brim! Fill, fill to the brim! j 

Let the flowing crystal kiss the rim! g 

My hand is steady, my eye is true, g 

For I like the flowers, drink naught but dew, g 

O, zvater, bright, bright waters a mine of wealth, 

And the ores it yieldeth are vigor and health. 

So water, pure water, for me, for me! g 

Edward Johnson g 

♦♦ 


example, Numbers 20: 19, and Mark 9: 41. 

| the wells. Cities must get their wa- 
I ter of constant flow, from lakes, 
| springs and artesian wells bored 
| into deep rock. Where the water 
| comes from high above the city, it 
1 falls naturally into the mains and 









:• 


in 


The Eagle’s Head in the Arizona Desert 

. .■.■■hi ..**——^ 



The slope below the seated man is clay or shale, the tower above is pebbly sandstone, carved 
by the desert winds. The two dark cylinders in the foreground are pieces of a petrified tree whose 
woody fiber has all been replaced by the mineral quartz through the work of underground water 
during endless ages. The vine-like pattern on the lower slopes represents gullies made by wet- 
weather streams, for it rains occasionally even in a desert, and the rain-born rills cut deep and 
fast because the desert climate prevents the slopes from being clothed in grass or trees. 



SEEING THE WORLD 
AND ITS PEOPLES 



OUR NATIONAL PARKS 




iamail 


“Think of the volcanic peak that once rose here. . . . Scientists have projected the slopes 

and proved that this cone was as high and much the same shape as Mt. Shasta. The Crater Lake 
Club have named this vanished peak Mt. Mazuma.” 


W E told you, when we started 
on this journey around and 
across America, to keep your 
eyes open, for by and by we’d 
come to the place where Mr. 
Thompson-Seton, the writer of 
wild animal stories, met Johnny 
Bear and his Mama. He took 
the cunningest pictures of them 

A Visit with a kodak, from 

to Johnny the balcony of a hotel 
Bear s Hotel j n Yellowstone Na¬ 
tional Park. This is a big beauty 
spot which the United States gov¬ 
ernment has set aside as a pleasure 
ground for people and a safe 
home for our native wild animals. 
As no one is allowed to hunt or 
molest them, the bears there have 
become so tame that they come 
out of the woods every evening 


of the summer tourist season to 
get their suppers at the hotel 
garbage piles. 

In the Cloudland of the Giant’s Bowl 

On any map Yellowstone Park 
appears as a tiny square in the 
northwestern corner of Wyoming. 
But it really measures sixty by 
seventy-five miles, and covers the 
whole northern watershed of the 
Rockies, from which three mighty 
rivers flow east, west and south. 
The center of this big, beautiful 
wonderland among the clouds is 
a giant’s bowl of a plateau, lifted 
a mile and a half up in the air 
and rimmed with still loftier 
peaks and ranges. It catches 
most of the rain and snow of the 
region to feed the streams which 






















































































































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE » 


thunder down deep gorges from the 
heights. Besides, it has one of the 
rarest wonders of the world—gey- 
„ sers! These spouting 

Where Hot . . .. t 

WaterSfiouts fountains of boiling wa- 

Out of the ter are to be found no- 

^ arth where else except in far 

away Iceland and New Zealand, 

and even there in no such number, 

beauty or variety of form. 

Ages and ages ago the peaks of 


lid. This vapor, rising through crev¬ 
ices, heats the springs nearer the 
surface, and makes them boil up out 
of their beds. 

The geysers are found in two 
desert-like valleys called Fire-hole 
and Norris Basins. In both, spout¬ 
ing fountains, boiling springs, hot 
mud and “paint-pots,” and feathery 
jets of water and steam, burst from 
countless big and little holes and 


Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone 


= mm : 



«*n 

Si 

Faulted, by Thomas Moran 

Here is one of the most striking scenes in Yellowstone Park, “The Grand Canyon.” Note how 
the artist has brought out its immensity by contrast with the two figures on the rock. This is the 
companion to the great painting “The Chasm of the Colorado.” The two paintings were bought by 
Congress for $10,000 each and are in the Capitol at Washington. 


these mountains were volcanoes, 
pouring out smoke and flame, ashes 
and melted stone. The volcanic 
fires died down so long ago that the 
Yellowstone River has had time to 
cut a canyon-bed fifteen hundred 
feet deep, but there is still a vast 

Like Water area °f heated rocks un- 
on a Hot der the floor of the 
Stove Lid plateau. Water which 

sinks far enough into the earth is 
turned into steam, just as it happens 
when you spill water on a hot stove 


1 Witches' 
Cauldron 
VCithout the 
Witches 


cracks over several miles of rocky 
floor. The floor, indeed, seems not 
solid, but a perforated 
lid for witches’ pots 
which bubble and hiss, 
rumble and roar, whis¬ 
tle and blow off steam like a vast, 
underground city of noisy factories. 
The earth sounds hollow under the 
footsteps, like loose boards over a 
cellar. The water, in melting and 
washing up clays and minerals, has 
honey-combed the rock below. 


*♦ 


»,♦ 

♦♦ 


•58 








The Canyon of the Yellowstone 



© Detroit Publishing Co. 

Looking into the canyon of the Yellowstone River from Inspiration Point, one sees a deep, steep¬ 
sided gash in the earth’s crust, carved by the stream which now flows through it. The canyon 
walls are tinted with many bright and beautiful shades, due to the rusting of the iron in the rocks 
here. It seems probable that the water of former hot springs and the steam of geysers has been 
partly responsible for the coloring. The name Yellowstone comes from the colors in the canyon 

walls. 


159 






8 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 
How Two Boys Made a Geyser 






These two boys have made a gey¬ 
ser of their own. The pipe opening 
into the pan at the top was corked, 
thrust into the ground at the bot¬ 
tom of a pit, then filled with water. 
They built a fire first at the bottom 
of the pit around the base of the 
pipe, then on some strips of sheet 
iron at a little higher level. In a 
little while a stream of hot water 
spouted high in the air. Why? 
Because the two fires heated the 
water at the bottom of the tube to 
the boiling point; steam was formed 
and the pressure was increased, but 
the weight of the column of water 
above was sufficient to hold the 
steam and expanded water down 
until the expansion reached a point 
where the steam in the water ex¬ 
ploded, as it does when a boiler 
bursts, and so threw out the column 
of water above. Then the water fell 
back into the tube and held the 
water in the lower part of the col¬ 
umn down until another explosion 
took place. This is what happens 
away down in the earth and causes 
the spouting of geysers at regular 
intervals. 


Different Dispositions 
of the Geysers 

\ 

In the two basins there 
are eighty-five geysers big 
enough to have names, and 
everyone of them behaves 
differently. While “The 
Minute Man” shoots up a 
boiling column sixty times 
in one hour, some take ten 
days to get up enough 
steam for an explosion. 
“Old Faithful,” which 
gives a beautiful display 
every sixty-five minutes, 
i s a favorite with vis¬ 
itors. Out of its minerals, 
it has built up a hollow pyr¬ 
amid, or crater, ten feet 
high. When ready to go off, 
the bowl fills with dancing bub¬ 
bles like a boiling tea kettle. 
Then, like a rocket, a column 
of water, as clear and rigid as 
crystal, shoots a hundred feet 




:iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiuuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii]iiiiiiiiuiiim 

























Why Old Faithful Spouts 


have been able to repro¬ 
duce the regular spouting 
of the geyser. The water 
producing the geyser 
flows between under¬ 
ground strata like an or¬ 
dinary spring, but in the 
case of the geyser the 
strata are hot and so 
produce the conditions of 
artificial geyser made by 
the boys. 


This picture is made 
up of a photograph of 
“Old Faithful” Geyser in 
Yellowstone Park, spout¬ 
ing, and a diagram of 
rock strata underground, 
showing how scientists 
account for the fact that 
geysers spout at regular 
intervals. With such ap¬ 
paratus as that made by 
the boys shown on the 
opposite page, scientists 




IP m : 



















PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Cooking in the Hot Springs 




In the days of pioneer travel to the Far West homesteaders found 
that a campfire was not necessary in the region of the Hot Springs. 
This couple are stewing venison and cooking corn meal dpmplings by 
lowering them into the boiling water. 


Set Your 
VFatch by Old SUI1. 


in the air. The top breaks and top¬ 
ples in fountain sprays and vapory 
clouds, that sparkle and shine with 
rainbow colors in the 
In five minutes the 
Faithful s p 0 w over, and the 

water sinks into the earth to be re¬ 
heated. 

Because of the heat and the min¬ 
erals which crust the surface, noth¬ 
ing green grows in the geyser val¬ 
leys. But there is plenty of bril¬ 
liant color. The built-up basins of 
the vents are colored with various 
minerals as bright as flower-borders, 
and some are filled with pools of 
melted clay that looks like paint. 
When old geysers have ceased to 
flow, their black, coral, brick-red, 
purple or ocher-yellow bowls are 
filled with ice-cold water, as green 
as emerald or as blue as sapphire. 


Jupiter Cascade is a terraced stair 
of painted ledges down which hot 
water flows in thin, vapory veils. 
u d • * And the walls of the 
Pots Got Grand Canyon of the 
Their Name Yellowstone River have 

been tinted by boiling springs with 
all the glowing colors of sunset. 
Twenty miles long, and from one 
thousand to fifteen hundred feet 
deep, this mighty gorge is Nature’s 
greatest picture gallery of sculptured 
and painted stone. 

It takes a week, traveling by 
stage-coach over the fine roads laid 
out by the government, to see all 
the beauties and wonders of this 
wild park. If you should ever visit 
this or any of the other national 
parks, be sure to take your camera 
and snap-shot the wild animals, the 
marvels of nature and the beautiful 


♦♦ 









tv 


OUR NATIONAL PARKS 

Cleopatra Terrace, Yellowstone Park 


♦v 


The hot spring terraces are made of limy or silicious deposits laid down in the open air, partly 
through cooling of the water, partly through the influence of plants called algae, that live in the 
boiling hot water and give it its brilliant colors. The water, heated by masses of igneous rock 
underground, dissolves the lime or quartz and carries it to the surface at the hot spring. Hot water 
standing in pools deposits the minerals it contains, either because the water is evaporated or because 
of the algae. The former may cause a deposit 1/20 of an inch thick in a year, the latter eight 
inches in a year. Such deposits are naturally thickest at the edge of the pool, where the water is 


Castle Geyser in Yellowstone Park 


cooled and where the algae live most abundantly. Hence the dep(?sits build up a rim on the basin, 
the water spills over the rim, and into another basin with a rim, thus making a succession o 
t e rra c c s 

The rim on the hot spring in front of the Castle Geyser, shown below, was made in this way, 
but as the hot spring is on flat ground, there is no lower pool to spill over into and no' terraces 
result. Terraces are made only when hot springs occur on a hillside. . , 

The semicircular form is caused by the natural spilling over on all sides away from the spring s 
opening, except on the uphill side. 












PICTURED KNOWLEDGE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM 

supply of hot water—enough for the | 
hotels, sanitariums, baths and board- | 
ing houses, for the army and navy | 
hospital, and for free baths for the | 

The Devil’s Ink Pot 



© Keystone View Co. 


This is the geyser called the “Devil’s Ink Pot,” in Yellowstone |j 
Park, just as an eruption is beginning. = 


t^llllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 

| views of mountains, forests and 
j streams. 

The Hot Springs Reservation 

The Yellowstone is 
| the largest and best 
| known of all our na- 
| tional parks, but it is 
| not, as many people 
| think, the oldest. It 
j was set aside in 1872, 

1 while the Hot- 
j S p ri n gs district of 
| Arkansas was re- 
| served nearly forty 
| years before. 

| This small park, 

I of less than a thou¬ 
sand acres, lies on 
the rising prairie 
west of the Missis¬ 
sippi. The shrinking 
. ^ earth here 

L k t 1 e pushed up 

Wrinkles a small re¬ 
gion of sharp, nar¬ 
row, zig-zagging 
ridges. The highest 
of them are no more 
than twelve hundred feet, but from 
the level plain they appear much 
higher. So low that people can 
clamber all over them by the miles of 
good roads and foot-paths laid out 
by the government, they still have 
the wild and rugged beauty of 
mountains, with their steep cliffs, 
deep ravines, mantling forests and 
dashing streams. 

The hot springs here are made in 
much the same way as the geysers of 
the Yellowstone, but the minerals 
dissolved in them are medicinal and 
good for treating certain diseases. 
So this is a health resort, the most 
famous one in America. The gov¬ 
ernment donated land for the build¬ 
ing of a city; and there is a constant 


poor. The charge for every sort of 
service, even the doctor’s fee, is 
fixed by the government, in Hot 
Springs, as in every other national 
tt 7 . park. Rates are pub- 

tleahng \ 1 

Waters of the lished, and anyone who 

Hot Springs overcharges a visitor is 

liable to lose his right to do business 
in these rest and pleasure grounds. 

The Parks in the Mountains 

Except for a few famous battle¬ 
fields—Gettysburg, Shiloh and 
Chickamauga, and some precious 
bits of hill and woodland in the 
prairie states, all the other national 
parks are in our broad, western 
highlands. There are four in the 
Rocky Mountains, three in the Sier- 


giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

164 








^iiiinimnnimiiniinnmimmminimmiinmnimnnniiimmniiniiii OUR NATIONAL PARKS 


ra Nevadas and two in 
the Cascades. Each 
has its special beauty 
and natural wonder. 
The glories of the Yel¬ 
lowstone, you must re¬ 
member, are the gey¬ 
sers and the Grand 
Canyon, while Glacier 
National Park is noted 
for its glaciers. 

Where Glaciers are Kept 
for Exhibition 

Such dark and glit¬ 
tering loveliness! Here 
w r e are in Glacier Na¬ 
tional Park. It covers 
a million acres of 
crowded and tumbled 
mountain peaks, in 
whose high g o r ge s 
eighty ice-rivers lie be¬ 
tween snowcaps and 


The House the Geyser Built 


© Keystone View Co. 

Here is the cone built by the largest geyser in the world at 
Yellowstone Park. It is called the Giant Geyser. 


Nature’s Paint Pots 


© Keystone View Co 

“The built-up basins of the vents are colored with various 
minerals as bright as flower-borders and some are filled with 
pools of melted clay that looks like paint.” 


above thick forests of 
gloomy Douglas firs. 
From all these glacier- 
filled gorges, cascades 
tumble and foam, and 
drop from dizzy cliffs, 

Mountain into the tw0 
Pockets Full hundred and 

of Lakes fifty big and 

little lakes which fill 
every valley, ravine and 
pocket of the mountains. 

This park lies on the 
boundary line of Mom 
tana and Canada, on the 
southern edge of the 
far-famed Canadian 
Rockies, and its scen¬ 
ery is of the same 
character. From the 
nearest railwav station a 
good road runs to lovely 
Lake McDonald within 
the park. From there a 


165 
























giiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiini PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iniiiiiin^ 

I The Devil's Race Course I 



© Keystone View Co. 

This winding pathway is made by a “meandering,” sluggish stream. It is another one of the 
curios in Nature’s curiosity shop in Yellowstone Park. 


variety of trips may be made by stage, 
wagon or lake launch; and the wild¬ 
est, most distant points may be 
reached on horseback. Glacier 
Park is the paradise of campers. 
People who can stand “roughing it” 
in the wilds, wear their oldest, 
warmest clothing—for the nights are 
cold—hire pack-horses to carry their 
outfits, and pitch their tents for the 
summer beside some hidden lake. 
For amusement they swim and row, 
fish for trout and explore the ra¬ 
vines. Every turn brings some en¬ 
chanting view—sharp ridges, solemn 
valleys, laughing lakes, or a glacier’s 
“apron” trimmed with flowers! 


In these northern Rockies the 
mountains are crowded together in 
confusion. In Colorado they sep¬ 
arate into long, north and south 
ranges, with high, narrow valleys be¬ 
tween. Cross ridges divide the long 
valleys into mountain-walled parks. 
The most famous of these lies sev¬ 
enty miles northwest of Denver. It 
was called Estes Park until taken 
over by the government in 1914 and 
renamed Rocky Mountain National 
Park. 

Until 1885 it lay hidden behind 
the first range, within the curve of 
the Continental Divide from which 
Long’s Peak lifts its grim and lofty 


;*;ill!ll!lllllllll!llllllllirilll[llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!lll!llllll!IIIIIIIIIIIH 






















OUR NATIONAL PARKS 


A Model of Yellowstone Park 


4 


Yellowstone Park contains lofty mountains such as the Absaroka Range on the east, the Tetons 
on the southwest, and the Gallatin Range on the northwest. These mountains wall in an elevated 
plateau which contains Yellowstone Lake and the several geyser basins. Under the plateau are 
great lava flows and ash deposits. Although all volcanic activity has now ceased, the presence of 
heated rock below the surface is responsible for the hot springs and geysers which furnish the chief 
attraction of the park. 


head. A party of big-game hunters 
from England found it by accident. 
After struggling over a snow-filled 
mountain pass, they suddenly looked 
down into a vast amphitheater of 
the softest, greenest beauty. A roll- 

GreenPara- J n 8> tree-dotted meadow, 
dise ‘Rimmed as big as a thousand 
With Snow farms, it was laced with 

silver streams and walled with misty 
mountains. And over this Garden 
of Eden, Long’s Peak stood guard, 
like some watchdog of the skies. 


All Ready for Visitors 

Wouldn’t you like such a wonder j 
world? It was settled at once by | 
ranchmen, wealthy hunters who built | 
beautiful homes, and by hotel keep- | 
ers; and hundreds of tourists visited | 
it every year. So, when, it was set | 
aside for a national park, there were | 
already good roads and accommoda- | 
tions for visitors. Railroads and | 
automobile service have brought this j 
park within a few hours’ ride of | 
Denver. Every vacation pleasure | 




167 









table-land.” The park covers sixty- 
five square miles, sloping gently 
away from the sunny top of a bluff 

two thousand feet 


and sport can be had there—camp¬ 
ing, fishing, motoring, horseback¬ 
riding, tennis, golf, mountain climb¬ 
ing and nature study, for this shel¬ 
tered, sunny valley is carpeted with 
flowers, and the fields and woods are 
gay with birds and butterflies. It is 
a wonderful thing to come so short a 
distance up from the hot, parched 
plains of midsummer, to find this 
green retreat, walled and cooled and 
watered with mountain snows. 


tnat springs up 

from the valley of the Montezuma 
River. A great region of plateau, 
valley, desert and circling mountains 

Watch Tower CM be Seen fr0m while 

of the the top can be reached 

Chff Men over only one, rough, 
winding trail. It appears to anyone 
as a natural fortress and watch tow¬ 
er, and that is what it was used for 
by the ancient cliff-dwellers. 

The Mesa appears to be fairly 
level and featureless, but its surface 
is deeply cut by canyons with 
streams flowing at their bottoms. On 
the rocky shelves of these gorges the 
cliff-dwellers built their hidden vil- 

se of Beautiful Hot Springs National Park 




People can clamber all over the low ridges in this park by miles of 
laid out by the government. This is a bit of woodland road back oi 
Springs. 


mm 


K ■ 

% Wog, ■% 



% 

1 * \ 

r - ’ 

* i.r' ■ 


K 

1 











iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim OUR NATIONAL PARKS iwiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! 

lages. Four of these community death. But theii 
dwellings—Cliff Palace, Spruce could not easily 1 
Tree House, Balcony House and destroyed; and in 
Tunnel House, are there today, each air they have stooc 
with public and private rooms, centuries. It was 

A Glacier Stairway in Glacier National Park 


This glacial staircase is on the wall of a cirque north of Swiftcurrent Pass, Montana. A cirque 
is an armchair-like form which the ancestors of the present ice masses carved out for themselves, 
leaving edges where the rock layers were locally more resistant. Upon these ledges the snows 
accumulate in excess of summer melting and solidify into ice, forming these small glaciers. 

granaries and fortifications. The villages of a vanished people- 
people who built them of dressed early Americans who traveled fa 
stone and clay mortar, had good on the road to civilized living—tha 
r ,, tt tools and knew much of the United States set the Mes 

thmpty Homes 

of a Vanished pottery making, archi- Verde aside as a national pari 
Race tecture and engineering. Scientists are permitted to dig fo 

They lived together in well-gov- pottery and metal work, for publi 
erned groups and had their system museums, but tourists are nc 
of religion. Although surrounded allowed to carry away souvenirs, 
by savage tribes, they pastured their 

herds and grew grain in the valley The Parks of lhe Pacific SIope 

below. The national parks in the Sierr 

What became of them? Nobody Nevadas and Cascades are very dif 
knows. They may have been sur- ferent from those of the Rock 
rounded by enemies and starved to Mountains. 


:jii!i!i!iiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1 ! 1111111111111111111 ^^ 

| Why the Birds and the Glaciers Sing Together | 



A Melting Glacier 

The crevassed and honeycombed ice of glaciers melts rapidly during the summer, as you see this 
one doing. Notice the water pouring down the fall at one side. This provides a more steady 
volume for the streams than in the winter, though sometimes it makes trouble for railways, whose 
bridges may be washed out or whose tracks may be buried by sand and gravel brought down by 
the streams. Farmers’ fields are often damaged by glacial flobds. It is this melting that deter¬ 
mines where the glacier ends, for if melting exceeds snow supply the glacier grows shorter. 


“As soon as the early rays of 
daybreak have lighted up the gla¬ 
cier, its very nature seems altered. 
Just as the adjoining forest is har¬ 
monious with a thousand joyous 
songs, the little drops falling on 
the projections in the crevasses 
tinkle as they are broken up; the 
gradually forming rivulets in the 
glacier murmur on their way. 

All these voices of the glacier gain 
strength as the sun gets higher; but 


| These mountains form 
| one, lofty, wall-like range 
| that runs unbroken from 
| southern California to 
| Puget Sound. Their crest 
| is a jagged line of snow- 
| capped peaks, domes and 
| spires, the craters of old volcanoes 
| and the remnants of ancient glaciers. 

I In the The wes t ern slope, facing 

| Enchanted the warm rains of the 
j Yosemite Pacific, is green with 

| wave on wave of forests of enor- 
| mous trees; and it is deeply cut with 



if a thick cloud intercepts the solar 
rays, both the birds and the glacier 
cease their song. The enormous 
ice river seems endowed with vital¬ 
ity and some enthusiastic savants 
have seriously asked the question— 
whether the monster did not pos¬ 
sess a soul. Numbers of moun¬ 
taineers, in their simplicity of 
mind, believe it.’’—Reclus: The 
Earth. 


gorge-like valleys- worn | 
into the rock by the water- | 
falls and rivers, which are | 
supplied from the melting | 
snow and ice on the crest. J 
The Yosemite Valley, the | 
loveliest of all the Sierra | 
Nevada gorges, gives its name to a | 
national park which also includes | 
the Hetch-Hetchy Valley and two | 
groves of big trees. 

The Yosemite National Park is | 
only a few hours’ journey by rail | 
eastward from San Francisco and 1 




*< 


170 






The narrow range on which the saddle horses and pack animals have halted temporarily, lies 
between the headwaters of competing stream systems where great glaciers formerly nestled, bur¬ 
rowing out such cirques as that on the left. The gentler slope in the distance on the right is due 
to high-altitude weathering. The horizontal strata on the left are typical of the northern Rockies, 
where the topography is similar to that of the Dolomites of the Austrian Alps. These rock layers 
lie almost horizontally, because they were originally laid down this way in the sea. 


♦♦ 


♦Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih our national parks mimii™ 

A Cirque and Tarn in Glacier National Park 


© Kiser Photo Co. 

Grinnell Lake is a tarn, occupying a basin produced by the glacier of the same name, whose 
shrunken descendant now lies at the base of the cliff in the background. The basin is completely 
surrounded by rock. It was scooped out by the ice, which eroded the great niche we call a cirque. 
Cirques are usually found at the heads of glaciers. The streams which fill this basin, forming the 
tarn, are seen cascading from the glacier down the steep head wall of the cirque. 

Crossing the Triple Divide in Glacier National Park 


I 71 











lies in 
the 

rain-belt of the 
mid - mountain 
slope, from four to six 
thousand feet above the 
sea. Warm enough to be 
all the year, it swarms with 
visitors from May to November. 
And the first goal of every tourist 
is the world-famed beauty spot of 
the Yosemite Valley. Less than a 
mile wide, this gorge, which, like 
a canyon, has granite cliff-walls 
three thousand feet high, and is 
floored with green meadows like 
a valley, runs into and up the moun¬ 
tains for seven miles. It is so small 
that nearly everything can be seen 
from the entrance. And every¬ 
thing is so close to the eyes, which 
T 7 / must constantly look up- 

Landscafies J % 1 

ward, that cliffs, trees 
and falls appear to be 
| enormous. Into this small space is 
| crowded every beauty of the Sierras 
| —dizzy, snow-capped heights, foam- 
| ing falls, evergreen forests, silver 
| streams and emerald meadows. 

The level floor of the valley, with 
| its flower-starred grass, neat bor- 
| ders of shrubs and groves of noble 
| trees, looks like a city park. Twist- 
| ing and winding over it the Merced 
| River widens to the pool of Mirror 
| Lake. These quiet waters are fed 
| by eight cascades which seem to drop 
| from the sky. The Yosemite Falls 
| make one leap of sixteen hundred 
| feet. The Bridal Veil, as it drops 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

How the “Iceman” Takes a Walk 

You sometimes see formations like this on a melting glacier. The 
big, gray slab is of granite or some other rock, and shades a little spot 
of ice so that it is not melted by the sun. This unmelted ice is made 
into a pillar by the melting away of the glacier around it. In the 
temperate zone the sun always shines obliquely on the 
glacier, so the pillar with its heavy capital of granite is 
slanting, because it melts more on one side than the other. 
The slant finally becomes so great that the slab slips off 
and by shading its underlying ice at a new spot, 
forms a new pillar. The old pillar, being unpro¬ 
tected from the sun’s rays, melts down to the 
level of the rest of the glacier. That is how the 
iceman takes a walk. You see him just 
starting out at the left. 


♦ ♦ 



nine hundred feet, 
widens to fleecy foam 
as soft as tulle. 
And the Yo- 
sem ite 


,an 
that Stand 
on End 


H e t c h - 
H e t c hy 

Cascades do not 
roar and thunder 
as do the falls in the Grand Canyon 
of the Yellowstone, but make only 
soft whispers and silken rustlings. 

SSndthe Everything is murmur- 

Beautiful ous with music and in 

Cascades airy motion, and every¬ 

thing shines from base to summit. 
All the greenery, and even the rocks, 
look new-washed. The snowy peaks 
and domes seem to melt into opal- 
colored clouds. The forests are not 
gloomy, for the tall, cone-bearing 
trees are set/- apart, like cathedral 
columns, with fretted green and 
gold sky-lights. 

Down on the valley floor the 
Yosemite is the enchanted prison of 
a fairy-tale, from which it appears 
only angels or birds could ever 
escape; but stout ponies can climb 

Where Fairies °Ut °/ !t h Y an Upward 

Weave winding trail. Everyone 

Their Shells goes up to the top of 

the falls and looks down. From 
there the valley seems only a green 


»♦ 


♦♦ 


172 


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U 


iiiiiiiiiiiiiiillililiiliilililiiiiiifliliilijH OUR NATI0NAL PARKS 


rift in the rocks ; 
the river, a silver 
thread; the cas¬ 
cades a fairy mist; 
while above, there 
is still a wilder- 
ness of shining, 
cloudy heights. 
All the most fam¬ 
ous points can be 
visited i n a few 
days, but an en¬ 
tire season would 
not exhaust the 
beauties of the 
park. H e t c h- 


At the gateway to the 
Garden of the Gods in 
Colorado, one sees gro¬ 
tesque rocks fashioned by 
the weather. The dark- 
colored cliffs in the pic¬ 
ture are made of red 
sandstone. Sandstone con¬ 
sists of grains of sand, 
usually quartz. 


The Gateway to the Garden of the 

Gods 



© Underwood & Underwood 


Hetchy Valley, 
the next gorge to 
the north, is only 
a little less en¬ 
chanting than the 
Yosemite; and on 
the southern edge 
of the park lies 
Mariposa Grove, a 
forty- square- mile 
tract of mountain 
forest which con¬ 
tains over three 
hundred and 
sixty-five giant 
sequoias. 


It gets its red color 
from the iron in it. On 
the right is a white 
rock. It is made of 
gypsum, or sulphate of 
calcium, and is soft and 
easily carved into sou¬ 
venirs by visitors. Pike’s 
Peak is in the back¬ 
ground. 



In Beautiful Williams Canyon 


The rocks on the canyon walls are in layers or strata. They were laid down in the sea in a 
horizontal position and then uplifted when the mountains were made, but without folding or break¬ 
ing. Hence they are horizontal today^ The strata are thin and varied in character, some being 
sandy, some clayey, some limy, as the supply of sand, clay or lime varied in the ancient ocean. 
These are sedimentary rocks. 







i73 
















PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Cathedral Spires” in the Garden of the Gods 


*♦ 


© Keystone View Co. 

1 Sequoia and General 
| Grant National Parks 

Anyone who 
| can, however, 
| should travel some 
| fifty miles farther 
| south to see the 
| ten thousand acres 
| of big trees in Se- 
I quoia and General 
| Grant National 
| Parks. Lying a 
| half-mile higher 
| on the slope than 
| the floor o f the 
| Yosemite Valley, 

H 

This is a striking ex- 
!§ ample of the strange bal- 
s anced rocks which are 
H found in various parts 
H of the country over 
H which the glaciers trav- 
= eled in the ancient his- 
= tory of the earth. When 
H the glacier melted away 
H it often left these rocks 
H balanced on some other 
1 rock. This was, of course, 
= a mere accident. 


these parks are so 
much colder that 
visitors must wear 
heavy clothing 
and have sleep¬ 
ing-bags in their 
outfits. Everyone 
camps out here, 
fishes for trout 
and explores the 
forest for the big 
trees. The sequo¬ 
ias do not grow in 
groves by them¬ 
selves, but are 
mixed in with oth- 
e r cone-bearing 
trees — spruces, 
firs, cedars, red¬ 
woods and sugar 
pines which would' 
themselves rank as 
giants anywhere 


i = 


Balanced Rock in the Garden of the Gods 


© Keystone View Co. 


W 


174 








OUR NATIONAL PARKS lUiniiiHiiiHnrirrirfTTrrmrrmrfiriiinfrrmfrffniKmnHmiinrrniniiiiiiii^ 

Mountains at the Timber Line 1 


" v > \ - 




This picture, taken in Rocky Mountain National Park near Long’s Peak, shows thick forests in 
the valley, a grassy slope in the foreground, and naked peaks in the distance. The upper limit of 
trees is called the timber line. The timber line is usually controlled by cold, because a mean 
annual temperature of 3 degrees below the freezing point is fatal to tree growth. In the United 
States the timber line varies from 4,000 feet on Mt. Washington, New Hampshire, to 11,000 or 
12,000 feet in Colorado where Rocky Mountain Park is situated, and from 5.500 feet in the Cas¬ 
cades of Washington to 11,700 in southern California. 


else in the world. The sequoias are 
found singly or in family groups of 
old and young trees* usually with 
some five-thousand-year-old patri¬ 
arch towering above the rest. 

When young the sequoia is a true 
arrow-head in shape, much like a 
spruce tree, and as quick to bow and 
flutter in the wind as a poplar. But 
as it grows the lower limbs are 
dropped, and the bare column, with¬ 
out a branch for two hundred feet, 
becomes deeply ridged and as stiff 
as granite. At the top, branches 
eight feet thick and gnarled as an 
oak, are thrown out to support a 
massive dome of foliage. 

There it stands, three hundred feet 
in the air, the loftiest mountain peak 
of the vegetable world. It takes 


fifteen hundred years to grow up, | 
and is young at twice that age, while | 
its neighbors are all dead at five | 
hundred. Only once was one ever j 

Young Things kn0Wn t0 Crash d °. Wn % 
3000 Years from decay. Lightning | 

never splits or shatters | 
the trunk. If lightning destroys a | 
head, another one is grown. It | 
never tosses its mighty arms in the j 
storms and it stands erect under | 
heavy loads of snow. Birds fly and j 
squirrels climb to its lofty crown to j 
build nests. | 

In late spring, while the roots are | 
still buried under ten feet of snow, j 
the sequoia blossoms out in a pale, | 
sunny green, and scatters its golden | 
pollen on the white earth. It does j 
not shut the sun away from humble | 


175 













:jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!itiiiii!iiiiiiiii^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiim 

1 Looking Toward Hallett Peak, Rocky Mountain Park 



Looking from Flattop Mountain, Colorado, toward Hallett Peak, 12,725 feet high, the eye 
bridges the chasm occupied by Tyndall Glacier. This ice mass, whose edge is marked by the snow 
bank at the bottom of the picture, is now so shrunken, stagnant and inactive that most of its 
surface is covered by angular rocks. These have slid down upon the surface of the glacier from 
the steep cirque walls that enclose it. High-altitude weathering, due to frost action and alternate 
heating and cooling of the rock from day to night, is the chief process here. Mountain summits 
usually have bare rock, as in this case, but flat tops and high mountain valleys contain piles of 
angular rock, weathered from the solid ledges. 



The Big Horns and Their Wonderful Jumps 


§§ This is a group 
i§ of Rocky Moun- 
| tain sheep or 
H “big h o r n s” in 
H Rocky Mountain 
s National Park, 
s Now that the 
H Government has 
H made this region 
= a national park, 
s the protection 
H afforded its wild 
ee animals will 
H make it in a few 
H years one of the 
H most successful 
H wild - animal 
|§ refuges in the 
|§ world. 

f§ These lofty 
s rocks are the 
H natural home of 
H the “bighorns.” 

H They are much 
s larger than do- 
= mestic sheep. 

{§ They are power- 
| ful and wonder- 
§s fully agile. When pursued, these sheep, even the 
= lambs, unhesitatingly drop head downward off pre- 
H cipitous cliffs sometimes many hundreds of feet 


high. Of course, = 
they strike ee 
friendly ledges |§ 
every few feet = 
to break the fall, ?= 
but these ledges || 
often are not = 
wide enough to = 
stand upon ; they = 
are mere rocky §| 
excrescenses a jj§ 
foot or less in. = 
width, from ee 
which the sheep i| 
plunge to the || 
next and the 1 
next, and so on j| 
till they reach = 
good footing in ee 
the valley below, ee 
So swift is the = 
descent that, = 
seen from below H 
at a distance, = 
these pauses are y 
often scarcely = 
apparent. The ee 
fact that the ee 
sheep always plunge head first has given rise to § 
the fable that they land on their curved horns, = 
which is untrue. 


176 











The Honey-Pot Ants 


the Garden of the Gods 


This is the underground home of the honey-pot ants. The species is called “honey-pot” because 
some of their workers are living store-houses of food, their abdomens are distended far beyond 
the usual size and stored with honey. When these ants hatch they are all alike, but the larger 
workers are fed with sweets until the elastic walls of the abdomens become distended to the great 
size you see in the picture. They do not move around as the rest of the colony do, but cling to 
the roof of their home as shown here, only coming down to disgorge some of the sweet contents 
of their honey-pots for their fellow-workers, or to be fed. 


1 77 



















PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Cliff Palace, in the Mesa Verde, National Park 


v 


were. 


Cliff Palace is the largest cliff dwelling ever discovered. It is built in a natural cave and has both 
floor and roof of rock. It probably contained 200 rooms and sheltered 23 clans or units of popula¬ 
tion. The loopholed tower is interesting because it shows what skillful builders the cliff dwellers 
Investigators believe it to be a temple, but are not quite sure what its use was. 


A Kiva 


The picture shows you one of the round little rooms called kivas, in the Cliff Palace. Each clan 
had these ceremonial rooms where the men gathered and performed religious rites. They are all 
built much alike, with a bank or shelf running around the edge from which six buttresses rise, 
forming six niches or recesses. The religion of the cliff dwellers required that the kivas be under¬ 
ground, so where they could not be dug out of the rock they were artificially made subterranean 
by piling up stones and gravel above them. Each of the kivas had a place for a fire and a well 
worked out ventilating arrangement, by which the smoke went out through one passage and fresh 
air was drawn in through another. In the floor of every one is a small opening, just large enough 
to insert the hand, lined with the neck of a roughly made jar. This represented to the cliff 
dwellers the entrance to the underworld and probably played a large part in their religious cere¬ 
monies. Square holes in the walls, like the one in the center of the picture, can be seen in all the 
kivas. They were used to hold paint, meal and all sorts of small objects. 




178 





M 


The Balcony House 


Photo by H. C. Johnson 

This picture shows one of the most interesting homes of the cliff dwellers. It is called The 
Balcony House on account of the balcony in the wall on the right. The projection you see is one 
of the cedar poles fastened into the wall on which the balcony was built. On the frame so made 
were laid small sticks close together, and these were plastered over with clay. This dried and 
formed a hard, solid floor. On this the family probably sat in the evening and looked down the 
great valley, which you see on the left. The big pointed rock adjoining the cliff rests so loosely 
on its base that it could be tumbled over and sent rolling down the cliff upon any enemies who 
might try to climb up. There was originally a space between this rock and the cliff through which 
enemies might have crept in on the cliff dwellers in the rear, but this was filled up with a wall 
of rocks and wood. In front you see the ladder by which the cliff dwellers climbed up to their 
homes, pulling the ladder up after them, as Robinson Crusoe did in his home on the island. 


S 


i/9 
















fgiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinin PICTURED KNOWLEDGE rnniirainiiiiniiiiiiiraiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiimnnauniiiii^ 

At the Valley Gates 


We are here at the entrance of the Valley of the Yosemite. On the right you see “Bridal Veil 
Falls.” Before you flows the Merced River and on the left, towers the famous “El Capitan.” 

Glacier Point in the Yosemite Valley 


© Keystone View Co 

Don’t these big rocks look as though they had been carelessly left in a heap after some giant 
was through playing with them? And that’s what happened. The giant was an ancient glacier. 




>♦> 


180 
















The Highest Waterfall in the World 





5* 




| neighbors, for the most delicate 
| flowers and shrubs bloom at its 
| GJants jr ind feet. All the “big trees” 

| to Little are on this western slope 

| Neighbors 0 f the Sierras, a mile or 

| more above the sea. The tracts never 
| were numerous, and many of them 
| were destroyed by lumber com- 
I panies before the Government be- 
| came alarmed. Those that remain 
| will now be protected as natural and 
| beautiful wonders, for no trees of 
| such gigantic size or venerable age 
| exist anywhere else in the world. 

Crater Lake National Park 

It is along the crest of the Cas- 
| cade Mountains, in Oregon and 
| Washington, you remember, that the 
1 line of old volcano cones is to be 
| found. One cone in southern Ore- 
| gon, just north of the Klamath 
I How the Lakes, lost its head in a 

1 Volcano Lost curious way. The vol- 
§ ^ ts C rown canic fires melted and 
| poured out so much of the interior 
| of the mountain through craters in 
| its sides, that the center became as 
| full of holes as a sponge. Then, 
| having nothing to support its weight, 
| the top of the mountain fell in, leav- 
| ing a bowl-shaped pit five miles 
1 across and four thousand feet deep. 
| This hole is now half filled with 
g water from melted snow, a sheet of 
| the darkest, clearest blue, that has 
1 been named Crater Lake. In the 
| whole world, it is thought, there is 
| no other volcanic peak that has col- 
| lapsed, as has this one, and then set 
| (j rater & crystal mirror in its 
| and Its Crystal headless top to reflect the 
| Mirror sky an d it s own circling 

| rim of towering cliffs. In beauty, 
| grandeur of scenery and natural 
1 wonder it ranks with the geysers of 
| the Yellowstone. So the United 
I States has set aside the whole moun- 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

tain-top for Crater Lake National g 
Park. Besides the increasing number | 
of tourists who visit it every sum- j 
mer, scientists come from all over | 
the world to study this curious spec- | 
imen of volcanic geology. g 

The difficult way to it lies up a [ 
steep slope thickly grown with dark | 
fir trees, and strewn with glacial | 
boulders. After the volcanic age | 
the great polar ice-field rolled over g 
and buried these mountains. It may | 
have been that this honey-combed | 
peak was crushed in by the weight g 
of the ice, and the melting glacier | 
formed the lake. In climbing up | 
The Blue the slope you come sud- I 
Sea in the denly to the dizzy brink | 

Big Cu£ 0 f this and looking | 

down a precipice of solid rock, see | 
a gigantic basin of heavenly blue— | 
a sapphire of the skies. No wind | 
can get so far down to ruffle its sur- | 
face, so like a flawless looking-glass | 
five miles wide, it reflects the sky g 
and its own twenty-mile rim of un- | 
broken cliffs which tower from five | 
hundred to two thousand feet above | 
the water. Those sheer walls drop | 
as far below as they rise above. | 
There is no single bit of sand or I 
pebbled beach, and no outlet to that | 
imprisoned lake that can be seen. | 
In countless places little rills trickle j 
down from the rim. The enormous I 
bowl must have been filled by the | 
melting snow ages ago, but that | 
water escapes through hidden crev- j 
ices to feed springs which burst out | 
on the mountain side and flow away | 
to the Klamath Lakes. | 

Think of the volcanic peak that | 
once rose here, shooting flames and | 

Restoring melted rock in a tower- | 
the Vanished ing column in the air. i 
Scientists have projected | 
the slopes, and proved that this cone | 
was once as high and much the same | 


♦v 




182 



♦ ♦ 


♦♦ 


A Sequoia 


“When young, the sequoia is much like a spruce tree; . • • but as it grows, the 

lower limbs are dropped, and a bare column, without a branch for two hundred feet, becomes 
deeply ridged and as stiff as granite. • . . There it stands, three hundred feet in the air, the 
loftiest mountain peak of the vegetable world. It takes fifteen hundred years to grow up, and is 
young at twice that age, while its neighbors are all dead at five hundred. 


r 


*> 

♦♦ 












Sunbeams Among the Giant Redwoods 


Though they are not as large as the big sequoias, the redwoods are mighty specimens of tree 
life. The foliage is cypress-like and the trees frequently grow to two or three hundred feet. Their 
wood takes a high polish and is a beautiful mahogany-like color. 


Illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^ 


I84 









^ihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih OUR NATIONAL PARKS nnnninminiiiiiraiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiniiiiiiniiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniraraii:^$ 

I A Volcano in a Volcano 1 


The artist here shows Wizard Island, a young volcanic cone, located inside the rim of Mt. Mazuma, 
a larger volcano which contains Crater Lake. The line of cliffs in the background represents the 
inside of the old volcano. These cliffs now enclose a crater, produced by the collapse of Mt. Mazuma, 
a cone at least as high as Mt. Shasta. Lloa Rock, in the background, is an old lava flow. Devil’s 
Backbone, to the left of the crest of Wizard Island, is a dike of igneous rock. 


| shape as Mount Shasta. The Crater 
| Lake Club has named this vanished 
| peak Mount Mazuma. 

Another Cone Made Into a Park 

Another volcanic cone in the Cas- 
| cades—Mount Ranier, near the city 
| of Tacoma, Washington—has been 
| reserved for a National Park. 

| Mt. Ranier Standing 14,408 feet, or 
1 and nearly three miles above 

| Its glaciers the seaj j g sec0 nd only 

to Mt. Whitney in the 
| Sierra Nevadas, in height, of all the 
| mountains in the United States. 
| And it appears to overtop every- 
| thing, for it stands alone and can 
| be seen from every direction, for a 
| hundred miles. Like Fujiyama, the 
| sacred mountain of Japan, its snowy 
| peak is slightly flattened on top; and 
| its glacial cap radiates in ice rivers 


far down its sides in deep, winding | 
gorges like some enormous sprawl- j 
ing spider. It is one of the few j 
peaks in the world that bears a gla- j 
cier system all its own. 

The park, which is eighteen miles | 
square, covers the entire mountain, j 
and is surrounded by a great forest | 
reserve. Visitors go by automobile j 
from Tacoma, across the prairies, | 
around lakes and along timbered | 
bluffs into the forested foot-hills, | 
then up to where the Nisqually gla- | 
cier melts and pours its torrent into j 
a river gorge. From where the ice j 
begins, travel is on foot or horseback. j 

There, too, the growth of trees | 
becomes thinner, and after another | 
half-mile of ascent the forests dis- | 
appear. Above the tree-line is a j 
belt of those grassy plateaus called | 
parks, which roll upward between | 


18.S 






^tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED 

| the ice-filled gorges. These meadows 
| are netted with lakes and streams, 
| dotted with groves of stunted fir 
| trees, and in summer are brilliant 
| with hardy Alpine flowers. Vis- 
| itors may eat picnic lunches on the 


KNOWLEDGE iiiniuiiiiiiM 

even in mid-summer b 1 i z z a r d s| 
sometimes break over this peak and| 
bury the trail in snow. A number j 
of rash people have lost their livesg 
on Mount Ranier, and the strongest| 
should try out lesser peaks to learn| 



The picture shows a craggy island called “The Phantom Ship” and the Palisades, cliffs 2,000 
feet high, on the inside of the old crater at Crater Lake. Brilliant red and yellow layers of 
volcanic ash are here revealed in striking succession. 


| grass, on the very brink of some 
| ancient glacier. 

The chief sport here is mountain 
| climbing, as fine and as dangerous 
| as any to be had in the Swiss Alps. 
| Those who try to reach the top must 
| have Arctic clothing, spiked shoes, 
| Alpinstocks, colored glasses to pro- 

I A Word to tect tlie e y es > an d must 
| Mountain hire a licensed guide. 
| Chmlers Mountain sickness and 

| heart-failure are to be feared, and 
| crumbling lava beds, hidden crev- 
i ices and rotten ice avoided. And 


mountain climbing before attempt¬ 
ing the ascent of this one. 

It is necessary to start by moon¬ 
light at one o’clock in the morning, 
in order to be up ten thousand feet 
by sunrise. The rest of the distance 
will take until late in the day. Few 
go higher than the South Crater, 

The Journey where, in a wilderness of 
Toward the ice and snow, steam still 
Clouds escapes from an old 

volcano vent. But for the trained 
and hardy mountain climber, it is 
an experience never to be forgotten 







OUR NATIONAL PARKS 


Mount Ranier 


A volcano in the Cascade Range of Washington is Mount Ranier. It has lost the conical form 
characteristic of an active volcano and is carved by weather, streams and glaciers into pleasing 
irregularity. The glaciers on the mountain slope arc among the largest in the United States. 
Their expanded ancestors produced lakes, like that which mirrors the volcano, its icy mantle and 
the beautiful pine trees of the foreground. Mt. Ranier is reflected so completely because of its 
height, 14,408 feet. It is miles back of the lake. 

In Mount Ranier National Park 


This is the Kautz Glacier, one member of Mount Ranier’s system of ice rivers 
its cirque at the summit and its winding, downward course. 


187 













Where the Lonely Rivers Flow 



Here you get a birdseye view of the awful Canyon of the Colorado zig-zagging across the water¬ 
less plain for 400 miles. Do you see that little silver thread of stream in the middle of the picture? 
The banks are 7,000 feet, or over a mile, above the stream. 


Illllll|[|||||||||||||||||||||||||||!ll!llllllllllll[||||||||||||||||||^ 

188 













tJiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiM OUR NATIONAL PARKS iimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiitiiiiiiiiimiiiimiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiinii^ 


| to toil on up 
| to Columbia 
| Crest, the 
| summit of 
| this lofty 
| and lonely 
| p e a k . 

| There, as 
| you stand 
| on a great 
| dome of 
| snow, over 
| unknown 
| depths o f 
| ancient ice, 

| you can 
| look down 
| upon the 
| radiating, 

| glacier- 
| filled gorg- 
| es, and out 
| over hun- 
| dreds of 
| miles of 
| lesser peaks 
| and ranges 
| and billowy 
| waves of 
| forest. 

| The National 
| Monuments 
1 Nature Made 

Altogeth- 
| er the Unit- 
| ed States has a scenic empire of over 
| five million acres, only a small part 
| of which is, as yet, open to the trav- 
| eler. Besides these ten large re- 
| serves there are twenty-eight tracts 
| unsuitable for parks that are under 
| government protection as National 
| Monuments. The greatest of these 
| is the Grand Canyon of the Colo- 
1 rado River, which for more than 
| two hundred miles cleaves the high 
| plateau of western Arizona. In its 
| lower course this gorge is a mile 


deep and | 
fifteen | 
miles wide. j 
T o u r ists | 
can reach | 
the rim at | 
several| 
points and j 
gaze down | 
into and | 
across t h e | 
m i ghtiest | 
fissure any | 
river has j 
cut into the j 
earth. John | 
Muir, the | 
poet of the j 
Sierras, j 
called it | 
“The Abyss | 
of God.” * | 
The oth- | 
e r m o n u- | 
ments are ] 
small. Each | 
consists o f | 
some one | 
natural j 
wonder or j 
beauty, ob- | 
ject of his- | 
toric inter- j 
est, or pre- | 
historic re- j 
mains. Among the most interesting | 
are Lassen’s Peak in California, our j 
only active volcano; Muir Woods | 
on the coast near San Francisco, the | 
largest and finest of our redwood | 
forests; the Devil’s Tower, a thir- j 
teen-hundred-foot-high, twenty-acre [ 
monolith of rock in Wyoming, and | 
the petrified forest of Arizona. | 
Many canyons, caves, cliff and adobe | 
villages, cinder cones, natural j 
bridges and old Spanish mission | 
churches, scattered over eleven j 


Looking Into the Grand Canyon 



Part of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado reveals a great 
succession of precipices and slopes. The precipices are on resist* 
ant rock like limestone or sandstone, the cliffs on weak rock like 
shale. Just a glimpse of the Colorado River appears in this 
picture between the Indian and the tree. Its tributaries, like 
the stream in the side canyon opposite, have branches, and these 
have smaller affluents, so that the canyon wall is cut up into 
innumerable ridges many of which are isolated to form the 
so-called temples and buttes. It is 5,450 feet, or over a mile, 
vertically from the river to the level horizon line opposite Pima 
Point, where this picture was taken. The broad shelf just above 
the head of the Indian is 3,400 feet below us, and hence shrubs 
there appear like tiny specks. 


8iIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH^ 

189 










..min PICTURED KNOWLEDGE imumui 


Moran’s paint¬ 
ing of the Grand 
Canyon tells the 
story of one of 
the grandest 
and most awe¬ 
inspiring of Na¬ 
ture’s works. 

One sees a vast 
chasm, falling away so abruptly that the 
observer involuntarily gasps. Muir 
called it “The Abyss of God.” 

The rocks in the foreground are hori¬ 
zontal limestones—horizontal, as the 
many level lines in the landscape say 
over and over again—limestone as is 
shown by the crystalline texture of the 
rock. The glance of the eye falls over 
precipices, passes down more deliberate¬ 
ly over slopes, but always hurries down¬ 
ward, for the dominant direction at the 
Grand Canyon is not across or to the 
right or left; it is down. On the way 
down, however, the eye is arrested by 
the different appearance of certain rock 
ledges. This cliff does not appear to be 
Kmestone. It is more crumbly, more 
sugary-looking. Perhaps it is what the 
geologists call sandstone. That slope 
seems to be made of weak rock, else why 
should there be a gentle declivity rather 
than a sheer precipice? Perhaps the 
rock is a shale, or consolidated mud. 
Some of the ledges are red, some yellow, 
many are gray. One recalls having 
heard that minute quantities of iron in 
a rock will stain it red or yellow when 
oxidized or rusted in the air. And now 
the color impresses us as natural and 
pleasing, for in nature even gaudy pig¬ 
ments blend and harmonize. 

In the distance we see the river, a sil¬ 
ver thread, winding through the abyss 
and finally disappearing behind the most 
remote precipice. We hear, but do not 
appreciate, that it is five or six thousand 
feet below us. Some one in our party 
remarks that the canyon is more than a 
mile deep. A mile standing on end; an 
avenue tilted up vertically for twenty 
city blocks; the country road from our 
farm to the postoffice running straight 
up into the air or straight down into the 
earth for that whole mile! One grasps 
that, with the directness of an unexpect¬ 
ed blow. And can it possibly be eight 
or ten miles across to the level plateau 
beyond the canyon? The knowledge of 
the depth helps in appreciating this. 

But what made the canyon? “Surely 
the river did not,” we would naturally 
say: “Why it would have taken thou¬ 
sands and thousands of years.” 

Yet geologists have proved that the 
river did carve the canyon, and they 
call it a “young valley” despite the enor¬ 


mous time its 
cutting requir¬ 
ed. They dem¬ 
onstrate that 
the Grand Can¬ 
yon is not a 
gaping crack 
due to the 
breaking of the 
earth’s crust. They call attention, to 
the side canyons, the gorges that join 
these, and the still smaller tributary 
chasms, all of them proportional in size 
to the streams within them. They point 
out that streams in all parts of the world 
are cutting into rock and producing 
smaller gorges with characteristics exact¬ 
ly like those of the Grand Canyon. They 
ask what would become of the many 
cubic miles of solid rock if the canyon 
were due to a yawning of the earth’s 
crust. They clinch the matter by calling 
attention to the fact that there are.enor¬ 
mous breaks in the rock (faults) in the 
Grand Canyon region, but that none of 
them form chasms and that the streams 
are without exception in ignoring such 
faults. 

True, then, the Colorado River did 
make the Grand Canyon. Its affluents 
made the tributary canyons. They did 
this by cutting down. But what widen¬ 
ed the canyon to its present form? What 
produced those buttes and towers and 
temples and thrones, the forms that sim¬ 
ulate castles and cathedrals? Another 
process, namely weathering, worked 
hand in hand with the stream erosion. 
With every change from the heat of 
noonday to the cool of midnight, from 
the warmth of summer to the chill of 
winter, the rock expanded and contract¬ 
ed. With every change from the dry¬ 
ness of pleasant weather to the damp¬ 
ness of a stormy day, the rock acquired 
or lost moisture. The contraction and 
expansion weakened it mechanically. 
The dampness brought about chemical 
changes. The wind attacked the rock. 
The roots of plants broke it open, its 
surface became loosened, fell away un¬ 
der the influence of gravity, exposed 
new surfaces to weathering. Thus the 
canyon was widened, thus the buttes 
and temples were fashioned. Of course, 
this took long, long ages. Yet the time 
required for making the canyon and its 
ornamental features, though long in 
years, was short in comparison with the 
million years or so that will be required 
for widening this young canyon into a 
mature valley like that of the Missis¬ 
sippi. The time is briefer still compared 
with the ages it took to form these rocks 
in the sea and to make the mountains 
in which the Grand Canyon is cut. 


tiimiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiimmmiiiiiiimtiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiimmiiiiiimiimiig 

1 The Chasm of the Colorado j 

A Geologist’s Interpretation of an 
| Artist’s Picture 

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A Great Painter's Description of Nature’s Grandest Piece of Sculpture 










&iiiiiiilillilllllilllllllliillillilM PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


Hermit Camp in the Grand Canyon 



The towering butte above the camp is a mass of resistant, cliff-making, sedimentary rock. It is 
one of the innumerable similar forms wrought by the hand of nature to ornament the Grand Canyon 
of the Colorado. The rock lies in a horizontal position just as uplifted from beneath the sea, and 
has been fashioned into its present form by just such quiet, slow processes as are now at work. 
There was no convulsion of nature producing the butte as it is today; its making took scores or 
hundreds of thousands of years; the sun, the wind, the frost and the action of gravity produced 
it, and with equal deliberation will destroy it again. 


states have been set aside, never to 
be molested. And others will come 
under government protection as fast 
as they are discovered. In our diffi¬ 
cult, unsettled mountain regions of 
the west, there are still large tracts 
that are little known, even in parts 


of the national parks where roads 
have not yet been opened. New 
beauties and wonders are. being 
found every year by American tour¬ 
ists who believe they should “see 
America first” before traveling 
ab road. 


The Mountains 

He hath made them the haunt of beauty. 
The home elect of His grace; 

He spreadeth His mornings on them; 

His sunsets light their face. 

The people of tired cities 
Come up to their shrines and pray; 

God freshens again within them, 

As He passes by all day. 

William C. Gannett 






192 









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OUR NATIONAL PARKS 

Location of the National Parks 


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Fort Worth. 


-4 MISS ALA 
J! 


The Yosemite 

Waiting to-night for the moon to rise 
O’er the cliffs that narrow Yosemite’s skies; 
Waiting for darkness to melt away 
In the silver light of a midnight day; 

Waiting, like one in a waiting dream, 

I stand alone by the rushing stream. 

Alone in a Temple vast and grand. 

With spire and turret on every hand; 

A world's Cathedral, with walls sublime, 
Chiseled and carved by the hand of 1 ime; 
And over all heaven s crowning dome, 

Whence gleam the beacon lights of home . 

•;* * £ 

The special shadows dissolve, and now 
The moonlight halos El Capitan’s brow. 

And the lesser stars grow pale and dim 
Along the sheer-cut mountain rim; 

And, touched with magic, the gray walls stand 
Like phantom mountains on either hand. 

O country, reaching from shore to shore! 

O fairest land the wide world _ o’er! 

Columbia dear, whose mountains rise 
From fertile valleys to sunny skies, 

Stand firm and sure, and bold and free, 

As thy granite-walled Yosemite. 

Wallace Bruce 


= 

§ 


iM 

*♦ 


193 








This waterfall, with a height of 975 feet, is in the Sierra Madre of Eastern Mexico, where a steep 
escarpment separates the plateau of Mexico from the low coastal plain at Vera Cruz. The dense 
vegetation is due to the heavy rainfall, for the trade winds precipitate much moisture on this wind¬ 
ward slope, though they cause a desert to the west. One-fourth of the water has already been 
diverted for water power used in adjacent copper mines. The cliff over which the water descends 
is part of the great escarpment at the eastern front of the Sierra Madre Orientale. 


“Salto De Atescaco" 


194 












The Statue of Charles IV in Mexico City 


“Mexico City rose from its old Aztec ruins and Spanish lethargy 
parked, and filled with splendid public buildings, fountains and statuary. 


It was boulevarded and 
This is the big statue of 

Charles the IV of Spain, who handed over his people to Napoleon in such an ignoble way. It is a 
high, commanding statue, on one of the boulevards of Mexico City, and weighs fourteen tons. 


M exico 

and the 
States of 
Central 
America are 
our next- 
door neighbors on the 
south, or rather, southwest, 
for the Gulf and the Caribbean 
Sea here take such a big bite out 
of the continent that they cut 
clear across the Mississippi Val¬ 
ley. For their share of North 
America these countries have only 
the tapering southern end of our 
western highlands. 

Mexico is so simple in shape 


and structure 
that any 
child could 
model it on a 
sand-table. 
He would 
just love to do it, too; for 
this big country, which is 
two thousand miles long, and from 
one thousand to one hundred and 
thirty miles wide, has the form of 

The Two the cornuco pi as that 

Homs are hung on Christ- 

of Plenty mas trees. One of 

Mexico’s nicknames is “horn of 
plenty.” And from the tip of that 
horn is dropped a smaller horn 


195 































































































8 » 



that is filled with the seven prize 
packages of the Central American 
republics and the British Colony of 
Honduras. As if to hold their 
treasures in, the sides of both corn¬ 
ucopias are built up with mountains. 
And from end to end they are deco¬ 
rated with tropic¬ 
al birds and 
flowers, sparkling 
with snow-capped 
peaks, crammed 
with “goodies” to 
eat, and gilded 
with sunshine and 
with gold and 
silver mines. 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

mountains many small streams drop 
in beautiful falls and rocky rapids. 
On the eastern side they loiter across 
the narrow coastal plain to the Gulf 
and Caribbean Sea. Except for 
rafts and the smallest craft, none of 
them are navigable, nor do they 

scour out deep 


i 


>: 


A Mexican Water-Carrier 


Lands of Few Rivers 
and Harbors 


Perhaps you 
can figure out 
why there is no 
large river sys¬ 
tem. The Rio 
Grande, on the 
boundary, is real¬ 
ly a United States 
river, rising in 
Colorado and fed 
chiefly from the 
north. The coun¬ 
tries are all so nar¬ 
row that there is 
no room to form 
great 
gets very 
which drains into it from the moun¬ 
tain crests. This forms lakes, most 
of them salt, because they have no 
outlets. Nicaragua has 
Rivers Are the largest of the fresh 
Scarce water lakes. Even little 

Panama has a fine artificial lake that 
very important. We’ll tell you 


In 


salable 


dry, hot countries, water is a 
commodity. Notice the sandals of this water- 
carrier. 


mouths to form 
harbors. Only by 
spending much 
time, money and 
engineering skill, 
were deep har¬ 
bors dredged out 
at Vera Cruz, 
Colon, Panama, 
and other sea¬ 
ports. None of 
these countries of¬ 
fered a wide and 
easily opened 
door to the Span¬ 
ish explorer. 

Now you may 
think that it is 
very hot every¬ 
where in these 
countries. The 
Tropic of Cancer 
crosses the middle 
of Mexico, which 
means that the 
sun, in mid-sum¬ 
mer, crosses the 


is 


about that in 
ama Canal. 
Down the 


the story of the Pan¬ 


outer slopes of the 


rivers. The central plateau sky directly overhead. And the sun 
little water besides that -■ stands as high here in winter as it 


does in New York in June, for the tip 
of Panama lies within six degrees of 
the equator. But, you know, it is 
always cooler on mountains. From 
Central Mexico to Nicaragua the 
plateau rises to eight thousand feet 
in height, and numerous snow-cov¬ 
ered and smoke-plumed volcanic 
peaks run up to seventeen thousand 
feet. Only the narrow coast low¬ 
lands are really tropical. With 









^iiiii!iiiii!iiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.. MEXICO .. mi ... mini . mi.winning 

I The Last of the Aztecs 



every thousand feet of elevation the 
climate becomes cooler. In the 
short, steep railway journey up from 
Vera Cruz to Mexico City you can 
find every sort of climate, from 
burning tropics to everlasting snow. 
It’s like taking that long journey 
from Florida to New England. 

The Story of the Spaniards 

Let us enter this country with the 
Spanish explorers of four hundred 
years ago, and share their dangers 
and delights. A hundred years be¬ 
fore the English Pilgrims came to 
Plymouth, Massachusetts, to make 
their home in the New World, a 
Spanish military expedition crossed 
the Gulf of Mexico to Vera Cruz. 
They wanted nothing but gold and 
silver, and were prepared to conquer 
any natives who opposed them. No 
town stood on the shore, for the 


Indians could not live in the “hot- 
lands.” The little caravels had to 

Tie Spanish be anchored far out, for 
Seekers for the water was shallow, 
and they were in dan¬ 
ger of being wrecked on sand bars 
when a “norther” swept down the 
coast. Their fine, big cavalry horses 
swam ashore. Guns, swords and 
armor were landed in rowboats. 

Big Trees and Fierce Animals 

The invaders had to struggle 
through the tropical jungle that 
covered the coastal plain. It was a 
thick forest of gigantic trees, such 
as were unknown in Europe—ma¬ 
hogany, rosewood, gum and dye 
woods, magnolias, cocoa palms, ba¬ 
nanas, rubber trees and bamboos, all 
bound together with a network of 
vines, and under them a tangle of 
shrubs that were a bright mass of 


^mmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiinmimimimiiimiiiimimiiHiiijiimimiiimmimiimimmimmmmmmimmmimmmimmmimmmmmimmmmmiimmiim 













PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


gaudy bloom. In these forests and 
in the s 1 u g g i s h streams, which 
steamed like a hothouse, were fierce 

The Struggle j a g uarS > ta P irS > P UmaS > 
Through boa-constrictors and poi- 

the Jungle sonous snakes, alligators, 
crocodiles, huge turtles and bats, 
screaming parrots, chattering mon¬ 
keys, humming birds and swarms of 
stinging insects. These are the 
things the Spaniards had to strug¬ 
gle through in the jungle all along 
that coast and far into South Amer¬ 
ica. They penetrated and conquered 
all of this region before 1525. 

On the Piedmont Belt, lifted from 
three to five thousand feet above the 
sea, they found the climate delight¬ 
fully cool and bracing, with clean 
forests of oaks and pines and the 
hardier palms. Such animals as 
wolves, bears and beavers abounded, 
and bright rivers were found dancing 


down the foothills. Higher and 
higher the invaders climbed, until, 
through thinning forests, they saw 
the snowy peak of Orizaba. Then 
they dropped over the mountain crest 
into temperate, sheltered, thickly 
peopled Mexico Valley. 

On the plateaus of Mexico and 
of Peru, South America, the Span¬ 
iards found large and rich tribes 
of Aztecs, the most civilized Indians 
in the New World. 'They had or¬ 
ganized governments, systems of re¬ 
ligion, and standing armies; kept 
historical records in picture writing 
that can be read today; and were 
deeply learned in astronomy like the 

Civilization ancient Egyptians. They 

of the built cities, bridges, via- 

Aztecs ducts, temples and forti¬ 

fications, of dressed and sculptured 
stone, whose ruins are the delight 
and wonder of scientific men 


An Aztec Pyramid 


I98 







^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^^^ MEXICO 


today. They worked the mines for 
gold, silver and copper and wrought 
these metals into ornaments and 
tools; cultivated the soil; wove fab¬ 
rics of cotton, hemp and jute, and 
dyed them; and made and orna¬ 
mented beautiful pottery. 

Robbery and Enslavement of the Aztecs 
Where are these people today? 
Gone like the cliff-dwellers? No. 
Their descendants still live in the 


ish colonies were lands occupied by 
a few ruling nobles, supported by 
soldiers, and by millions of poor, 
ignorant, degraded Indians. Even 
today only about twenty per cent of 
the people in these lands are white, 
forty per cent are Indians, and forty 
per cent of mixed Spanish, Indian, 
and Negro blood. 

About a hundred years ago all the 
Spanish colonies in America rose, 


Aztec Ruins at Mitla 


This is one of the best preserved of any of the old Aztec buildings. Scientists have not been 
able to decide whether the building was palace, fortress or temple. The building is of carefully 
hewn stone, covered with intricate patterns of geometric figures. 


homes of their ancestors. Once 

conquered, they were allowed to live, 
to work in the mines and on the 
plantations for their white masters. 
In the battles the capital was partly 
Where destroyed, and it was 

the Aztecs stripped of its treasure. 

Are Today The natives lost their 

property and their liberty, forgot 
their arts and sank lower in civili¬ 
zation. For three centuries the Span- 


under native leaders, and, after long 
wars, won their freedom from Spain. 
They all formed republican govern¬ 
ments much like that of the United 
Lands of States, but with greater 

Constant powers given to their 

Revolution presidents. Unable to 

read as most of them were, and not 
knowing how to use or protect their 
liberty, the people were, for a half 
century, led into revolutionary wars 


11H 






IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM 

Where the First Christian Church in America Was Built | 



The carvings and figures in this old church are equal to many justly-famous European shrines. 
It is at Tlaxcala. the ancient capital of the warlike Mexicans who aided Cortez in conquering the 
Aztecs. The first Christian church in America stood here. 




200 















f 11 " 1 . . .. MEXICO ........jg 


by men who were ambitious for 
power or greedy for money. Their 
treasures were looted and nothing 
was done for country or people to 
lift them above poverty and ignor¬ 
ance. It was not until 1880 that 
Mexico, under the strong rule of 
President Diaz, began a thirty-year 


period of peace and of prosperity. 

The Treasure House of the World 

Then the world very quickly dis¬ 
covered that the Spaniards, for all 
their three hundred years of occu¬ 
pation, had only scratched the sur¬ 
face of this wonderful country, 
which the great scientist Baron Von 
Humboldt called “the treasure house 
of the world.” 

That is what we called Alaska, 
with its rich mines of gold, copper, 


iron and coal, you remember. 
These western highlands of America 
are everywhere rich in minerals 
from Alaska to Panama. And it 
would seem that into Mexico’s 
cornucopia had been poured enough 
precious metals to supply a whole 
continent. There are mines in twen¬ 
ty-six out of thirty-one 
states—nearly 25,000 sepa¬ 
rate mining properties, pro¬ 
ducing gold, silver, quick¬ 
silver, copper, iron, lead, 
zinc, tin, platinum, petro¬ 
leum, asphalt, soda and 
other rare minerals, besides 
turquoises, opals, and other 
semi-precious stones, and 
fine quarries of marble. The 
tropical forests with their 
cabinet, dye and gum woods 
and rubber, were almost un¬ 
touched ; there was an em¬ 
pire of rich farming, graz¬ 
ing and fruit-growing land, 
needing only to be cleared, 
drained or irrigated; and in 
the mountain cascades there 
was w T ater and electric power 
to turn mill-wheels, do the 
work of mines, light the 
cities, supply the telegraph 
and telephone lines, and run 
the street cars. 

Rapid Development Under Diaz 

President Diaz knew that the peo¬ 
ple of Mexico had neither the money 
nor the knowledge to develop all the 
resources of the country, so he in¬ 
vited everyone with capital, energy 
and ability to come in and help. 
Englishmen built the harbors, 
bridges and railroads and opened up 
great oil-fields. Americans devel¬ 
oped oil wells, too, and also the 
water power; supplied machinery 
for mills and railroads, and went 


A Pulque Maker 



© Underwood, & Underwood 


Pulque is an intoxicating drink made by the Mexicans 
from the juice of the maguey, which is of the same species 
as the century plant. Here you see a Mexican with his 
burro, collecting the juice. 


....... 


201 




giiiiiiiiiniiiiiii* PICTURED KNOWLEDGE miiiiiiiiiii™ 

I The Old and the New I 


.'M. 


With the opening up and development of Mexico such scenes as this were frequent—the autos 
of American capitalists sharing the roadway with a train of native pack-burros. 


into farming, fruit-growing and 
stock raising. Germany furnished 
the hardware trade, and equipped 
Foreign the army. The French 

Enterprise imported dry-goods and 
Welcomed ran co ^ on mills. The 

Spanish people of the country kept 
the grocery trade, operated cotton, 
jute and hemp factories, managed 
the banks and big plantations, en¬ 
tered the professions of law and 
medicine, and learned engineering 
so they could develop their mining 
properties. 

Before 1900, nearly 15,000 miles 
of railways and telegraph lines, two- 
thirds of it owned by the govern¬ 
ment, connected every part of the 
country, and crossed to transconti¬ 
nental lines in the United States. A 
Transforma- dozen harbors had been 
tion of dredged out of the sand 

Mexico City anc j pj-otected by jetties. 

The seaports and capital had been 
cleaned and supplied with modern 
waterworks, electric lights, tele¬ 
phone service and street cars. Mex¬ 
ico City rose from its old Aztec 
ruins and Spanish lethargy. The salt 


lakes were drained away, it was 
boulevarded and parked, and filled 
with splendid public buildings, foun¬ 
tains and statuary. The picturesque 
market was restored, with its native 
Indian venders of fruits and flowers. 
Only those who know the history of 
the country miss the ancient gold¬ 
smiths and pottery workers. A 
castle was, built to crown the hill of 
Chapultepec, where Montezuma, the 
last of the Aztec kings, had his 
summer palace. Beautiful suburbs 
began to spread across the valley, 
where every house was shaded by 
trees, and bowered in Bougainvillaea 
roses. With every day like England 
in April, and strawberries to be had 
all the year around, the capital was 
gay with winter visitors, motor cars, 
theaters and restaurants. 

The Riches of the Soil 

Agriculture went hand in hand 
with railroad building and mine de¬ 
velopment. Near the seaports the 
tropical forests were cleared away 
to make plantations for growing 
pineapples, bananas and the citrus 


W1111111111111111.1111.mini.....iiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiii^ 


202 







Strawberries All the Year Around 


© Underwood & Underwood 

With a drink of water Mexico’s thirsty, highland soil produces strawberries and other fruits in 
abundance. Wouldn’t you like to buy some of them fresh from the vines from these brown boys 
who are offering them for sale? 


203 









ttiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiniiiiiH PICTURED KNOWLEDGE nranmiiiiiraiiniiniiniiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiHiiiriiiiiniiiiiiinimS 


Weaving the Serape 


This is a Mexican Indian girl weaving a serape outside her grass-roofed stone hut. The serape 
is the blanket or shawl worn_as a wrap by the natives of Spanish-American countries. 


| fruits for northern markets, besides 
| olives, vanilla-beans, cacao, from 
| which chocolate is made, and cocoa- 

I Agricultural nuts. In the foot hills, 
j Development farms were cleared for 

| corn, wheat, beans, peppers, sugar 
| cane, tobacco, coffee, cotton, grapes, 
| and all the fruits and vegetables of 
| the warm temperate zone. On the 
| plateau, the warm and cool temper- 
| ate crops grew, varying with the 
| elevation, and, whenever there was 
| water, stock raising flourished, in 
| horse, mule, cattle and goat ranches. 

The country itself easily paid for 
| this rapid development. The ex- 
| ports from Mexico had soon reached 
| the enormous sum of nearly $125,- 
| 000,000 a year. Half of this was in 
I r / . the precious metals, for 

| and Mexico is the first silver 

| Imports producing country in the 

| world, and the fifth in the value 
| of its gold. The other half was in 


coffee, sugar, tobacco, hemp, cab- | 
inet and dye woods, rubber, cow- | 
hides, goat skins, and tropical fruits. | 
The imports, which amounted to | 
$111,250,000, consisted mostly of | 
railway and building materials, ma- j 
chinery, and textiles for clothing. | 
The factories, run by water and | 
electric power, were making all the | 
flour, paper, leather and leather | 
goods the people needed, and were | 
developing the old native gift for | 
metal work and pottery. 

Division of the Races 

In all this wonderful work just | 
one thing was wrong. The condi- | 
tion of the common people was not | 
bettered. As rapidly as possible | 
public schools were built and educa- | 
tion was free. There were high and | 
normal schools and colleges of min- | 
ing, commerce, engineering, law. | 
medicine and the fine arts. The I 


^!llllllllllllllll!lllilllll!llllllllllllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!ll!lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH 


204 








giiniiiiiiiiiiiiiwiiniiiiiiiiiiiw MEXICO 

i graduates from these schools easily 
| took the leadership in business and 
I public life. Among them were a few 
| What the of native Indian ances- 
| Schools try. President Diaz had 

| Accomplished M j ndian grandmother . 

| But in 1896, when the attendance of 
§ children between six and twelve was 
| made compulsory, eighty-five per 
| cent of the population was still illit— 

| erate. This was almost exactly the 
1 Proportion of the Indian and mixed 

§§ The Peons at Play 


= The picture shows a group of peons holding a water festival. 

| races. As poor and neglected as 
| ever, they worked on the plantations 
| and in the factories and mines, for 
| just enough to keep them alive. 

| They had no property and could get 
| none, for the Spanish families still 
| held the land under old royal grants. 

| Since Mexico is a republican gov- 
| ernment, you would think all this 
| could be changed by legislation. But 
| it is republican only in form. The 


himself though his opportunities for 
doing so were abundant. 

But he did not reform the land 
laws, nor give the poor peons any 
share in the general 
prosperity. This was the 
cause of the revolution 
which broke out in 1910 and under 
various leaders continued for years. 
This is the sad history of nearly all 
the Spanish colonies in America. 


Sad 

Condition of 
the Peons 


ruling is done by the educated 
whites. The mass of the people have 
been too ignorant and helpless to 
assert their rights. Once a man is in 
power he can stay in until turned out 
by successful revolution. President 
Diaz rose in that way, and kept 
himself in office for thirty years. An 
able, honest, far-seeing statesman, 
he developed the resources of the 
country and kept a turbulent people 
in order, and he refused to enrich 




♦ ♦ 


205 










The Monument the Waters Carved 


© Underwood & Underwood 

The waves have carved out this tower or stack on the coast of eastern Canada. It is made of 
conglomerate, a rock formed by the consolidation of gravel and boulders. You can see the indi¬ 
vidual, rounded stones in the column of the stack. Formerly there was doubtless an arch here, and 

a bridge connecting the stack with the sea cliff on the right. The picture is taken at low tide. 
At high tide the water rises to the level of the narrowest portion of the stack, where continued 
wave erosion will result in the undermining of the tower and finally in its destruction. 

The motion of the water is similar to that of the string which turns the fire stick when you make 

fire as the Indians did; that is, in the sense that the water swishes behind the rock first from one 

side and then from the other, since the waves do not strike all points on the coast at the same 
moment. 







SEEING THE WORLD 
AND ITS PEOPLES 


CANADA 


The Great Dominion of Canada 


T he first 

thing 
you think of, 
in looking at 
a map of 
Canada, is 
the great si 
country, and its 

line on three oceans. But the 
northern lands are frozen 
wastes, fit only for the home of ' 
a few Eskimos and polar ani¬ 

mals. Most of the people live in 
the southern parts that border the 
United States and the Great 

Lakes. 

But that strip is larger than it 
looks to be. In some places it is 
hundreds of miles wide, and it is 
nearly four thousand miles long. 


It runs from 
the Atlantic 
to the Pacific. 
To cross it 
takes a jour¬ 
ney of five 
the fastest trains, 
fine harbors on 
both oceans, and a great inland 
water-way stretches along half 
the length of the land. From 
east to west there are islands and 
a peninsula with seaport cities, a 
long valley, broad prairies and 
the most beautiful region of lofty, 

An Empire wooded mountains in 
of Natural America. Cities, towns, 
Wealth farms, cattle ranch¬ 

es, fisheries and mines make work 
and wealth for millions of people. 


U A * 




5 telfc 


■ 


■ 






■ r 


A Wheat Field in Canada 

‘In the prairie region the forest belt lies far north, giving a vast country for wheat growing.” 
The short summer season of warm weather is over and it is harvest time on this Canadian ranch. 
Here is the big wheat field, stretching in all directions as far as the eye can see. As in our 
own West in the early days, ranches are vast tracts of land, their acreage running up into the 
hundred of thousands. 


207 







































































































Photos © Keystone View Co. 

This river, one of Canada’s many wooded, swift-flowing streams, is a tempting place to spend 
one’s vacation with a canoe. The children in the insert are enjoying themselves, too—climbing 
over the enormous trunks of fallen trees near Vancouver. 


A Forest Four Thousand Miles Long 

Along the northern border of this 
settled strip a wide belt of forest 
runs from ocean to ocean. Its up¬ 
per edge curves from the mouth of 
the Mackenzie River, across the 
ef rees middle of Hudson Bay 

from Ocean to the east coast of Lab- 
to Ocean rador. Its lower edge 

touches the high, rocky shores of 
Lake Superior. Thick woods cover 
the hills and lake-strung valleys of 
the old Laurentian Highlands, or 


“The Height of Land” as some 
geographies call it. These forests 
shelter and give work to thousands 
of Indian and French-Canadian fur 
trappers, to fur traders in their log 
posts, lumber men and miners. They 
make a resort region of wild beauty 
to which thousands of people go 
every summer for camping and fish¬ 
ing. And in the winter they form a 
wall between the pleasant lands of 
the south and the bitter cold of the 
Arctic plains. 




♦♦ 


♦Jiiiimiiiiii.....min PICTURED KNOWLEDGE .. iiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig 

In the Beautiful Canadian Woods 


208 










^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiii DOMINION OF CANADA liiiiiiiiiiiilliiliiilililliiiiiiiiillliillliiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiUH 


Very few Canadians ever see their 
| Great White North. But they are 
; | proud of it and of its history. Can- 
| ada is a land of very big things. Of 
| all the countries of the world, where 


and cold winds and waters meet, 
making storms and fogs. Icy gales 
blow down the coast of Labrador. 
Icebergs are often seen from the 
decks of ocean liners. The gray, 


Buffalo on the Canadian Plains 



= © Keystone View Co. 

In the days when white men were first beginning to settle the wide western plains, buffalo were 
called the “monarchs of the plains,” and great herds of them were to be found everywhere. Now 
they are almost gone except for a few in Canada and those in captivity in our own parks. 


| many people can live in comfort, it 
| has the largest frigid desert. From 
| Eastern Labrador to Alaska, above 

| Heroes of the the tree line > 3 Vast bar ' 

I Great White ren plain, sheeted with 
| North snow, stretches to seas 

1 that are locked in ice and winter 
| darkness three-fourths of the year. 
| You think such a place could have 
| no history? Why, it is from this 
| region that most of the heroic sto- 
1 ries of polar exploration have come 
| for the last three hundred years. 

One of the big things of Canada 
| begins out in the Atlantic, east of 
| the Gulf of St. Lawrence. In this 
| part of the ocean, currents of warm 

giiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim 


heavy seas are dotted with big and | 
little fishing boats. The air is | 
woven with wheeling gulls and | 

Wild Trade eid er ducks. When the j 
of the Ocean wind dies, thick, white | 
Lmers fog CO yers the ocean. | 

Steamers slow down then and blow | 
fog horns, until they clear the | 
“Grand Banks,” and come out to 0 
the sunshine and sparkling waves of | 
the open sea. 

What the “Grand Banks” Are 

What are the “Grand Banks”? 1 

c= 

Do you remember about the conti- | 
nental shelf along the Atlantic j 
coast? It was made mostly of soils | 
washed from higher lands and into | 


209 







©Underwood & Underwood 

The isolated rock, 216 feet high, lies at the entrance to the St. Lawrence River. Its sheer 
precipices are evidence of the strength of the wave attack that has separated Perce Rock from the 
headland of Gaspe Peninsula, which points towards it. The sides lack vegetation, not only 
because of steepness and constant undercutting, but also because of the salt spray in which they 
are bathed during the more severe storms. The sand beach near the wharf at the fishing village 
of Perce is made up of fragments from the bold headland to the left as well as from Perce Rock 
itself. 


Perce Rock, the Guardian of the St. Lawrence 


210 














DOMINION OF CANADA 


the shore waters. The low, northern 
end of the Appalachian Highlands 
comes down to the sea-shore, south 
of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The 
mountains even dip under the gulf, 

Fishermen of Perce Village 


© Keystone View Co. 

These fishermen are on the mainland facing Perce Rock, near 
Perce Village. 


and appear again as rocky head¬ 
lands on the big island of New¬ 
foundland. 

South of Newfoundland, and east 
of the peninsula of Nova Scotia, the 
continental shelf has been built out 
for three hundred miles. It lies, a 

The World's Wide P Iain > ° nI y a feW 
Greatest Sea hundred feet under wa- 

Fishenes ter. Sloping steeply 

down at its outer edges, it makes a 

high bank for ocean waters that are 

a mile in depth. Every spring, for 

unknown ages, armies of food fishes, 

cod, herring, mackerel and others, 

have swum to the Newfoundland 

Banks to lay their eggs. There they 

remain all summer. So here, off the' 


Newfoundland Banks are the great¬ 
est fisheries of the world. 

These “Grand Banks’’ were found 
by the English and French explor¬ 
ers who mapped the eastern coast of 
America. The English 
had fisheries of their own 
in the North Sea, but the 
peoples of Southern Eu¬ 
rope never had had 
enough fish. Long be¬ 
fore the Pilgrims came 
to live in New England, 
hardy French fishermen 
were making yearly voy¬ 
ages to the Banks. By 
and by they settled on 
the best harbors of Nova 
Scotia, New Brunswick, 
and the islands about the 
Gulf. They cut trees to 
build houses, boats, 
wharves and salting and 
smoking sheds. They 
made salt by boiling sea 
water. Ship loads of 
fish were sent to France, 
and food, clothing, furn¬ 
iture and domestic ani¬ 
mals were brought back. Farmers 
came and made homes in the fertile 
valleys of these sea borderlands. 

First Roofers The 7 had g rain fields > 
of the Silver orchards, and meadows 

Harvest for ca ttle and sheep. 

Enough farm products were grown 

for home use, but money to buy 

everything else came from the sale 

of fish. 

For more than three centuries, 
now, the French and English peo¬ 
ple of these sea provinces of Can¬ 
ada, and fishermen from the United 
States and France, have braved the 
storms and fogs, and the perils of 
icebergs and ocean vessels on the 
Newfoundland Banks. And they 



211 












Gannets on Perce Rock 


© Underwood & Underwood 

This near view of Perce Rock shows hundreds of gannets—big coast birds that live on fish— 
crowding on one of its rocky cliffs. The gannets build their nests here because they are safe. If 
an intruder approaches or a gun is fired, they fly up in clouds, but the thunder of the surf below 
does not disturb them in the least. 




2 12 







^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih DOMINION OF CANADA niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinim 

=z t == 

| Two of Canada’s Glaciers 


© Detroit Pub. Co. 


This is Illecillewaet Glacier, a = 
valley glacier, descending a steep §| 
slope. It rises in high snowfields M 
and terminates about 4,800 feet 1 
above sea level. The terminus of M 
the glacier is melting back and the §§ 
streams which emerge from it are M 
white with rock floun—“glacier milk’’ §§ 
—derived from the ledges over §| 
which the glacier grinds. The bar- || 
ren zone has been recently uncov- M 
ered by the recession of the glacier. M 


Blue or Tumbling Glacier 

Blue or Tumbling Glacier drops p 
5,000 feet from Robson Peak at the §j 
top, to Berg Lake, of which you can || 
catch a glimpse in the right-hand M 
corner. This glacier is a particularly |§ 
beautiful one—a shining, sliding j| 
stream of green, blue and white ice. §§ 


gllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllUllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllinra 


213 














^i!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iii!I!iiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiimw 


are still reaping the silver harvest 
of the sea. The fisheries, east and 
west—for salmon swarm up the riv¬ 
ers of the Pacific coast—are very im¬ 
portant sources of wealth to Canada. 


Other early French settlers went 
down the gulf and river to where 
the cities of Quebec and Montreal 
now stand. The valley was narrow, 
the steep shores crowned with noble 
forests. The autumn maples glowed 

■New WoM like fire among the dark 
Furs for Old firs and spruces. Even 
World Buyers w h en the trees were 

cleared away, much of the soil was 
found to be poor and strewn with 
boulders. But the woods were full 
of black bears, foxes and other fur 
animals, and every little stream had 
its beaver dam. The old world was 
willing to pay good prices for the 
soft, thick pelts that came out of the 
snowy woods of Canada. Every 
year a beaver fair was held in the 


log trading post at Montreal. Here 
the ocean sailing vessels could tie up 
to wharves, and here the Indians 
and the French couriers du bois, or 
“runners of the woods,” brought 
their winter catch of 
skins. 

French people always 
got along with the Indi¬ 
ans. Young men were 
soon in the woods with 
them, camping, canoeing, 
traveling on snow shoes, 
driving dog teams and 
supplying the Indians 
with guns and traps. 
They went out over the 
Great Lakes and plains 
almost to the Rocky 
M ountains. They 
brought furs out of the 
Mississippi Valley west 
of Lake Michigan. These 
Canadians had no moun¬ 
tain range to cross. They 
had a great inland wa¬ 
terway over which their 
canoes could float for 
more than two thousand 
miles into the heart of America. 
They could carry their light canoes 
around rapids and falls and across 
narrow water partings. 

But the fur trade is gone now, you 
think, as it is in the United States. 
No; there were more wild animals 
in Canada in the first place. And 
the fur trading was 
Hudson Bay taken over by the Eng- 
Comfany fish Hudson Bay Com¬ 
pany. This company took law and 
order into the wilderness and pro¬ 
tected the fur animals. It would not 
allow hunting or trapping in the 
spring and summer when furry 
mothers were caring for their ba¬ 
bies. So Canada still has a great 
fur trade. The business gives work 


A Dangerous Trip 



© Keystone View Co. 

These two men are climbing over Illecillewaet Glacier in true 
Alpine fashion—roped together and carrying knapsacks. One 
of them is chopping a foothold in the sharp, slippery ice. 


........iiiiiiiiiii .. .in,,|,||,inn,miming 


214 








A Gash in the Glacier's Face 



H © Detroit Pub. Co. 


This is a crevasse of great depth in Illecillewaet Glacier. Crevasses are due to strains or pulls 
in different directions in the brittle, upper ice. They are often formed where the ice tongue descends 
a steep slope, as in this case, or where it turns a sharp bend, or flows over hidden inequalities in its 
bed. When covered with snow, crevasses are a great danger to travelers. 

^;i!illllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllll!llllillllllllllllllllllllllllllilll!llllllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllin 


2I 5 








S' 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 
In the Valley of the Ten Peaks 


»,» 

♦♦ 



= ©Keystone View Co. 

“The Canadian Rockies is the Switzerland of America. There is no semi-desert plateau as in 
the United States. The mountains are crowded together into a tumbling sea of peaks and ranges. 
M The steep heights are crowned with snow and draped with dark forests.” 


| to poor Indians who 
| pitch their tepees in 
| the woods, beside 
| lonely lakes, and to 
| French Canadian 
| wood runners. 

There was wealth 
| for the newcomers 
1 in the trees, too. 


The old world had 
used up its forests. 

The fir trees of 
Canada made fine 
masts for the mer¬ 
chant and naval 
vessels of France 
and England. The 
hardwoods were 
used for ship tim¬ 
bers and many kinds of building. 
Canada has been cutting down trees 
for three hundred years, but a third 
of the country is still covered with 


A Railroad’s Winter Umbrella 



©Keystone View Co. 

Where the tracks are in danger of being 
buried deep under drifted snow or under 
avalanches from the hillsides, snowsheds 
like these are built to protect them. 


forests. The eastern 
cities of Quebec 
and Ottawa are 
now the centers of 
the lumber trade. 

Canada has not 
wasted her trees. 
There is a govern- 
ment forestry de¬ 
partment to direct 
lumbering, prevent 
forest fires and re¬ 
plant cut-over 
lands. And on 
the mountains of 
British Columbia is 
an enormous tract 
of timber that is al¬ 
most untouched. 


The ring of the axe and zip of the saw | 
are heard in lumber camps from one | 
end of the country to the other. Log | 
rafts and booms thunder down the 1 


♦♦ 


216 













miiiiiiiiiiniiiiiuiiinnii DOMINION OF CANADA fliimiiiimmininmiiiiimiinimimiiinniiiiimiiiiniiiniiniiiniiiiiiii] 

Foothills of the Canadian Rockies 


This is a broad valley in the border of the Rocky Mountains of Alberta. The valley has been 
carved by the small stream shown in the foreground and by the glaciers which formerly occupied 
these foothills. On the sides of the valley are terraces—bench lands—probably made up of gravel 
and sand laid down by glacial rivers and only partially cut away again. Though traversed by a 
railway, the valley is without habitations except where mining or grazing are profitable. 

streams when the ice breaks up. And three lakes lay around them, th 
wherever there are rapids to turn a farmers could not ship what the 
wheel, is heard the clatter and drone grew to eastern markets, 
of the saw mill. 

For quite two hundred and fifty Where N ' agara ’ s Waters Roar 

years the white people of Canada Ocean vessels were stopped a 
stayed in the sea provinces, the river Montreal. Above that city wer 
valley and along the shores of the dangerous rapids, where the S' 
The Garden lower lakes. The French Lawrence foamed over ledges an< 
Sfot of had cosy farming vil- heaps of rocks. At the west end o 

Canada lages between Quebec Lake Ontario was worse trouble— 

and Montreal. The English, who the falls of the Niagara River, 
came later, pushed westward and Those falls are made becaus 
found a garden spot in the peninsula Lake Erie lies in a basin that i 
north of Lake Erie. Rich soil was three hundred and twenty-six fee 
there and the climate was milder, higher than Lake Ontario, and i 
They could grow wheat, grapes and empties its waters through a rive 
peaches, and there were velvet pas- that is only thirty-six miles long 
tures for dairy cows. But, although If the bed of the river had been 


217 










giiiiiiiiiiinim PICTURED KNOWLEDGE nuiBiuiiiiiiiuiiiuuiiiniimiUHiuraimiiiiiiiiiiiBramiiiiiiiramiiiiiiiiiiii^ 


A Rancher’s Home on the Canadian Prairie 




How would you like to live in a home like this—made of logs and with grass growing up from ^ 

its sod roof? These two little girls have no one for miles around to play with except their baby 
brother in the carriage, and each other. But they have the whole rolling prairie for a front 
dooryard, and hundreds of wild flowers to pick. = 

perior; the third, the Welland | 
Canal, around Niagara Falls, which | 
was the most difficult and costly. | 
The last one is twenty-seven miles | 
long, and has twenty-seven great | 
locks, or water-room stair-steps, | 
to let the ships up and down. | 

But Canada is making this Indian | 
“Thunder of Waters” pay for all the | 
trouble it has made. The river | 
Vast Power plunges, with the strength | 
Put to Work of seven million horses, | 
over those falls. Part of this wild | 
force has been harnessed to wheels | 
to make electric power. This is sent | 
over wires to light cities, run street | 
cars and turn factory wheels, a hun- | 
dred miles away. | 

Beginning of the Railway System | 

It was these canals that made it | 
possible for the English people of | 
Canada to go out to the prairies | 
west of Lake Superior to grow | 
wheat. But a railroad had to be § 
built out to the new town of Winni- 1 
peg, so the wheat could be sent to the | 

j.jiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ .. .mu, iiiii,,^ 


| slope of very hard rock, the water 
| would have slid down and worn ev- 
| ery part alike. But a level layer of 
| limestone ran part of the way. Then 
| softer sandstone appeared at the sur- 

I What Made f ace - This the water cut 
| the Niagara into much faster. Where 
| Falls the lime roc p ends, the 

| water plunges over an undercut 
| bluff, a hundred and sixty feet high, 
| making one of the grandest cas- 
[ cades in the world. Nearly the 
| whole length of the river is danger- 
| ous for water craft. Above the falls 
| the river descends fifty feet over 
| boiling rapids. Below them it rush- 
| es down another hundred feet and 
| through a rock-walled gorge that is 
j three hundred feet deep. 

West of Montreal the great wa- 
| terway was almost useless to Can- 

| Canadas ada Until three Canals 

| Three had been cut; one 

| Great Canals around thg rapids Q f the 

| St. Lawrence; another around the 
| falls or “Soo” of the St. Marv’s 
| River, that leads up into Lake Su- 


218 







|«i!iii!iliiii!iii[iiii!iii!ii!iiiiii!ii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!i^ DOMINION OF CANADA iiiiiiiiiiiiiliiliiiiiiiliiiiiiiiliiliiiiiiiu^ 

Quebec, Seen From the River 



‘‘The shores in the east are steep and, in many places, still covered with forests. Quebec, the 
old French capital, has an old-world look on the rocky heights.” 


| harbors of Fort William and Port 
| Arthur on Lake Superior. Copper, 
| iron and lumber were in the hills 
| north of Lake Superior, too. Water 
| transportation is cheap. But Can- 

11 GettingCana - ada ’s lake harbors, ca- 
| da's Wealth nals, and even the St. 
| to ^Market Lawrence, are frozen in 

| midwinter. Montreal had to use 
| Portland and Boston in the United 
| States, in the winter months, until a 
| railroad was built to its own Atlantic 
| seaports of Halifax, Nova Scotia, 
| and St. John’s, New Brunswick. 
1 The harbor of St. John’s never 
| freezes, for the sea tides rise and 
| fall up the long Bay of Fundy. 

Canadians knew that, until travel 
| and trade could be carried to all 
| parts of the land, all the year around, 
| Canada never could be a great, unit- 
I ed, well-governed, prosperous coun- 
1 try. Every province had been man- 
| aging its own affairs. The only law 
| and order in the woods and on the 
| plains was that imposed by the Hud¬ 


son Bay Company. The provinces | 
united themselves into one govern- | 
ment, and built the Canadian Pacific | 
railroad away out to Vancouver | 
Island. You see, even governments 1 
have to grow. 

How Canada Is Governed 1 

Although the Dominion of Can- j 
ada is a British colony, it really has | 
a government much like that of the § 
United States. It has a parliament | 
A Great or congress that makes | 

Empire of the laws, in the city of | 
States Ottawa. Each province | 

has its legislature, as our states have. | 
It is a very democratic country, ev- | 
eryone free and equal. It is a col- | 
ony of Great Britain, but Canadians | 
think that an advantage. England | 
does not interfere, nor make the | 
people pay taxes. | 

So Canada has had its time and | 
strength and money to spend on | 
works of peace and plenty. How the | 
country grew after the canals and | 


S9i 


UK 















PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 



railroads were built! In the prairie 
region the forest belt lies far north, 
giving a vast country for wheat 
growing. On the high, dry, shel¬ 
tered plains along the mountains 
and below the forests is a cattle 


These, with salmon from the canner¬ 
ies along the Frazer River, are sent 
eastward. The fisheries, wheat 
fields, cattle ranches, dairy farms, 
orchards and gardens exchange 
their products with each other, the 


' The Largest Grain Elevator in the World 



This grain elevator, the largest in the world, is at Port Arthur, Ontario. The tanks in the 
middle are built of frost and fire-proof tile. The letters on these tanks are each twenty feet high. 
The whole elevator holds 7,250,000 bushels, or 217,500 tons of wheat. It would take a string of 
freight cars sixty-five miles long to empty it. That such an elevator is built at Port Arthur on 
Lake Superior tells its own story of the tremendous wheat crops of the Canadian prairies. 


country. Horses, cattle and sheep 
live out of doors all the year around. 
Variety Butter and cheese are 

of its sent from there to the 

Products prairies, where the win¬ 
ters are too cold and stormy for 
animal herds, although there are 
short, hot summers to ripen wheat. 

In the mountainous country on 
the Pacific coast, the winters are only 
cool, rainy seasons, as they are in 
Washington and Oregon, in the 
United States. Orchard fruits and 
vegetables are grown in the warm, 
moist valleys of British Columbia 
and the big island of Vancouver. 


whole length of the country. And | 
they supply food to the lumber | 
camps, fur-trading posts and mining | 
towns. Everybody helps everybody | 
else, and all work hard and make | 
good livings. | 

Mineral Wealth in the Mountains 

Mines, you know, are found in | 
mountainous country. See how much | 
of Canada is covered with moun- | 
tains. The Appalachian Highlands | 
are in the sea provinces on the east. j 
The old Laurentian Highlands, the | 
oldest mountains of America, under- | 
lie that great forest belt. Very | 


§iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim 


220 










^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiih DOMINION OF CANADA iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih 

Mt. Lefroy and the Beehive, Alberta, Canada 

1 I 


Dreamy Lake Agnes 



© Keystone View Co. 

“Between the ranges are deep valleys in which lie 
sheets of still, dark water.” 


$11 


The Rocky Mountains of Canada, as 1 
in Glacier National Park, contain the s 
American equivalent of the justly famed s 
Dolomites. They are bold Alpine peaks, {§ 
carved out of nearly-horizontal rock s 
layer^. Near Mt. Lefroy and the Bee- = 
hive shown here, these peaks rise to M 
more than 11,000 feet above sea level. || 
The lower slopes are dressed in dark- || 
green mantles of coniferous forest, the =§ 
higher precipices are naked, while the = 
summits are crowned by snowy diadems. = 


8 


221 







»III 1 IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII 1 IIIIIIIIIIIII 1 IIIIIIIIIII 1 II 1 III!IIU PICTURED KNOWLEDGE omuiumiii!^^ 


Cranes in Lake Saskatchewan 



This group of cranes can be seen in the American Museum of National History in New York City. 
They came from Lake Saskatchewan. See where they build their nests. 


| high mountains fill the western pro- 
| vinces of British Columbia and Yu- 
| kon. There are coal and iron mines 
I Riches in Nova Scotia and Van- 

| in couver Island. One of 

| the Mines r i c } ies t gold fields of 

| the world is in the mountain val- 
| ley of the Yukon, away up near 
| Alaska, at Dawson City. When first 
| opened, these mines could be reached 
| only by steamer, over the river, in 
| the short summer, and by dog 
| sledge, over the ice, in the winter. 
| Now there is a railway from the 
| harbor of Skagway, Alaska. 

The Laurentian Highlands come 
| down to Lake Superior in high, 
| rocky shores. Copper and iron were 
| found in the hilly country around 
| this lake long ago. In 1895 a great 
| field of silver ores was found in the 
| forest covered hills northeast of Lake 
| Huron. More than thirty mines are 


being worked around Cobalt. Sil- | 
ver, nickel, arsenic and cobalt, a | 
beautiful blue mineral paint, are | 
mined. It is thought there must be | 
valuable mines to the east, in Lab- | 
rador, and that worn, old mountain | 
chain on this bleak peninsula may | 
yet bring great wealth to Canada. 

Grand Scenery That Draws Travel 

A trip the length of this coun- | 
try is a wonderful experience. Peo- | 
pie from England make a holiday of | 
it. The steamers cross the “Grand | 
Banks” in the fishing season. After | 
stopping at Halifax, they pass count- | 
less little fishing villages, each with 1 
its snug harbor. Passengers see the | 
valley farms with pastures and bios- | 
soming orchards. The great gulf is | 
full of shipping—steamers, freight | 
barges, pleasure boats’ and canoes. | 

The shores in the east are steep | 




222 













Montmorency Falls, Near Quebec 


© Underwood & Underwood 

The waters of Montmorency River fall into the St. Lawrence a few miles northeast of Quebec, 
in a 250-foot cascade. The Falls are beautiful as well as being an important source of power for 1 
the Province of Quebec. Canada’s supply of coal is not so great as to make it possible to neglect 
water power, though it would be a great pity to destroy this particular scenic resource. Now that 
hydro-electric power may be transported great distances, the “white coal,” as waterfalls have been 
called, has an enhanced value. 


223 












8iiiiiiill!lili!llll!lilllllM PICTURED KNOWLEDGE lliiiiiilliiiliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiM^ 


and, in many places, still covered 
with forests. Quebec, the early 
French capital, has an old-world 
look on its rocky heights. Along the 


lands summer resort, near Lake 
Ontario, and on to Niagara Falls. 
Or they can go into the lake-dotted 
woods to camp and fish. The best 


Beautiful Emperor Falls 


“Through every break in the mantle of forest can be seen ice rivers far up the rocky gorges, and 
lonely cascades that seem to fall from the clouds.” This is Emperor Falls, flowing from beneath 
Hunga Glacier on Robson Peak in the Canadian Rockies. The cloudy, snow-streaked top of the 
peak can be seen above the Falls. 


shore are French farm villages, all 
the houses and the parish church 
fronting the river. Montreal (Mount 

A Wonder- Royal) has a French 
ful Picture name, but it is very 
^° w English, and one of the 

busiest shipping cities in America. 
From there tourists can go up the 
St. Lawrence to the Thousand Is- 


guide is a French-Canadian “wood 
runner,” who can follow the trails 
and paddle a canoe like an Indian. 

The Land of Winter Sports 

But from Montreal to Ottawa and 
Toronto, Canadians will tell stran¬ 
gers that winter is the time for sport. 
Then the Snow King is ruler of the 


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224 









DOMINION OF CANADA Iiiihiiiuiiiih^ 


Cathedral Peak and the Shoulder of Mt. Stephen 



This mountain valley was carved by the Kicking Horse River and enlarged by a glacier which 
formerly flowed here. Cathedral Peak rises 10,284 feet above sea level, or nearly 6.000 feet above 
where the picture was taken. Its top is flat because the rocks are horizontal; and its castellated and 
turreted form is due to the many streams that cut into it and to the action of frost and weather 
along joint planes. It rose above the ice and, therefore, retains the form that suggests a ruined 
cathedral, while the shoulder of Mt. Stephen in the foreground was rounded and smoothed by the 
glacier. • 


land. The winds from the west pick 
up water from the Lakes and drop 
it in a fleecy blanket all over the 
Where eastern valley. The air 

Winter is a is dry and snappy. The 

Delight sun sparkles on the 

snow. Every town has its frozen 
stream for skating, ice-boating and 
hockey. Sleigh bells jingle on every 
highway. The coasting hills are 

lighted at night with torches and 

bonfires. Young men run races on 
snow-shoes and skis. When an ice 
palace is built in Montreal it glitters 
all winter, like a captured iceberg. 
No wonder the people call Canada 
in winter “Our Lady of the Snows.” 

On the Great Lakes, in summer, 
is an endless procession of passenger 


steamers, pleasure boats, and vessels 
loaded with wheat, lumber and iron. 
Westward from Lake Superior a 
train runs across hundreds of miles 
of green and gold wheat fields, then 
across flowery plains, where great 
herds of horses, cattle and sheep 
graze in the shadow of the frowning 
mountain wall. 

The Switzerland of America 

The Canadian Rockies is the 
Switzerland of America. There is 
Tumbling no semi-desert plateau 
Sea of Peaks as in the United States. 
and Ranges The mountains are 

crowded together into a tumbling 
sea of peaks and ranges. The steep 
heights are crowned with snow and 


225 
















♦♦♦ 

♦♦ 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


draped with dark forests. Between 
the ranges are deep valleys, in which 
lie sheets of still, dark water. On 
the slopes, that border these mirror¬ 
like lakes, are the blossoming or¬ 
chards of great fruit ranches. 
Through every break in the mantle 
of forest can be seen ice rivers, far 
up the rocky gorges, and lovely cas¬ 
cades, that seem to fall from the 
clouds. 

For hundreds of miles the rail¬ 
road loops and twines around the 
peaks, and skirts the lakes and the 
brinks of precipices. At Banff there 
is a great national park, of six thou¬ 
sand square miles of mountains cov¬ 
ered with the giant Douglas fir 
trees. There the elk, moose, buffalo, 


bear, mountain sheep and other na¬ 
tive wild animals live undisturbed. 
As the Frazer River drops down its 
gorge to the ocean, Indians can be 
seen fishing for salmon, and China¬ 
men washing the scanty gold of old 
mines out of gravel. 

The train runs down a steep slope 
to the coast, across a strait, and out 
to the big mountainous island of 

The Beautiful Vancouver. A beautiful, 
Island of . warm, moist land—flow- 
Vancouver erg p^om in its wave- 

washed gardens all the year around. 
And there the Pacific Ocean liners 
can fill their bunkers with coal and 
steam away to the South, to the 
North, to the West, to Panama, 
Alaska, Japan and Australia. 


Editor’s Note. —Mother and teacher are reminded that the early 
scenes of Longfellow’s “Evangeline” are laid in Nova Scotia, the 
“Arcadie” of the French. Ernest Thompson Seton is a Canadian 
writer, and his animal stories have, in most cases, a Canadian setting. 
Older boys can find clean stories of adventure in Ralph Connor’s 
“Man from Glengary” and Stewart Edward White’s “Great White 
North.” 


♦v 


226 












SEEING THE WORLD 
AND ITS PEOPLES 


53 




THE PANAMA CANAL 


“That Giant With the Seven-League Boots Could Almost Step Over It” 


A T the narrow, southern end 
of North America lies a 
little country that has played a 
big part in the history of the 
world. Only forty-seven miles 
wide at its narrowest point, the 
Republic of Panama separates 
the Atlantic from the Pacific 
Ocean. It lies across a great 
water trade route like a landslide 
across a railroad track. Really 


it would be more useful if it 
weren’t there, at all! 

To go around Panama means 
a voyage of ten thousand miles, 
down to the end of South Amer¬ 
ica and up again. To cross it 
looks easy. That giant with the 
seven-league boots could almost 
step over it. But here Nature 
has heaped up so many troubles 
for travelers that Spain, France 


227 































































































































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PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


How the Panama Canal Gives 


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+ , Thes , e A WO o map ^ sh( ? W the principal trade routes of the world and how some of them are shortened 
through the Suez Canal, as was at one time feared. snorrenea 


| and the United States puzzled over 
| that problem for four hundred years. 
| It was not solved until 1913, when 

I A great B le ? anam a Canal was 
| Victory of opened. The enormous 
| Pe ace water bridge which now 

| spans this narrow neck of land is 
| called Uncle Sam’s “Big Job.” The 
| doing of it makes the greatest of all 
| stories of victories of peace. 

The story begins with Columbus, 


Vi 

tf 


who discovered the eastern coast of | 
Panama in 1502. He was hunting | 
for an ocean strait that would let him 1 
through to China. Eleven years §f 
Balboa's later, another explorer | 
Discovery of from Spain—Balboa— | 
the Pacific crossed the isthmus, at | 
the head of armored troops and con- | 
quered Indians. He was in search i 
of treasure, and was quite unaware | 
that a few days’ march would bring 1 




228 





























































































































iinmniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnimniiiniiniiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiniiHUHniiniinnraB THE PANAMA CANAL inniiuiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiniinninnniiiiiuiininimmiuuiinrt^ 

a Short-Cut Across the World 



Balboa J s 
Dream of 
the Canal 


| him to the shores of another great 
| ocean. It was on the tenth of Octo- 
| ber, 1513, that he climbed Balboa 
| Hill, after crossing a low mountain 
| range and, as a poet says—with 
| eagle eyes stared at the Pacific—and 
| all his men 

Looked at each other with a wild 
i surmise, 

Silent upon a peak in Darien. 

Such an astonishing, important 

| discovery! Here was a new ocean 
^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiitiitiiiii iin ii iiiiiiiiiiiniiii iii ii iiini iiiiiiiiii iiiniiiiiiiiiuiillllillllllllllllinillllllllllllllllllHIlllllllllllllllllllllimillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllinilN 

229 


for Spain to sail; new lands, beyond, | 
perhaps, for her to conquer. How | 
vexatious that ships should be j 
stopped by such an in- | 
significant strip of land! | 
Balboa reported to the | 
king that he thought a strait could | 
be opened across this isthmus. | 
“There be mountains/’ he admitted, | 
“but there also be hands to level | 
them.” Those early explorers were | 


3 















































































&iiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE innnnnmnmiiuiiiiiiUHiiffliiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiuraifflg 


| men of vision and daring. No task 
| looked too big to them. 

1 Mountains, Swamps, Jungles and Eleven 
1 Feet of Rain! 

S3 

“There be mountains,” indeed, 
| and other difficulties to daunt the 
| stoutest heart, in Panama. The tip- 
| end of our great western highlands, 
| we find here the same central pla- 
| teau and a true mountain range. To 

I Easier to be SUre tHiS 

| ‘Dream Than table-land is only thirty - 

| to ®° two miles wide and 

| eighty-five feet high, and the ridge 
| which springs from its western edge 
| rises to a height of only five hun- 
| dred and thirty-four feet, but it 
| is a part of the rock-ribbed, folded 
| and wrinkled backbone of the conti- 
| nent. As elsewhere, from Alaska 
| southward, the slope to the Pacific 
| is short and steep. The eastern slope 
| descends to a region of rough foot- 

II hills on the plateau, before it drops 
| to the sandy swamp which borders 
| the coast. 

In this hot, sea-washed land, 
| eleven feet of rain falls every year. 
| Storms from the Caribbean sweep 

i Swamfis. Jun. right over the low moun- 
| gles and Eleven tains, drenching the 
| Feet of Ram isthmus and causing a 
| dense growth of tropical jungle 
| nearly everywhere. The eastern 
| coastal belt, for a width of six or 
| seven miles, is bottomless swamp. 
| Above that, the foothill valleys of 
| the plateau are netted with swollen 
| streams that, uniting, drop in raging 
| little torrents to the sea. The 
| Chagres River, before it was 
| dammed back by the canal builders, 
| and made to spread into a lake on 
| the plateau, often rose forty feet in 
| twenty-four hours. “There be moun- 
| tains,” floods, swamps, poisonous 
| snakes and insects, and steaming 




jungle in Panama for men to con- j 
quer. | 

The Spaniards did cut and burn, | 
hew and bridge, and keep open a j 
royal road between the fortified | 
cities which they built at Panama | 
and at San Lorenzo at the mouth | 
of the Chagres. Their ships were j 
c • i rr r soon on the Pacific i 

opamsn 1 raf - . = 

ftc Across bringing treasure from § 
the Isthmus Western Mexico, Peru, | 

South America and the Philippine | 
Islands. Treasure was carried over- | 
land and supplies returned by mule- | 
trains of hundreds of laden animals j 
guarded by soldiers. Indians and | 
English pirates often attacked and | 
robbed these trains. The early story j 
of Panama was one of splendor and | 
violence. | 

The Sluggish River and the Jungle 

On the lower Chagres River you j 
can, today, see the stream they navi- | 
gated, and the tropic forest through | 
which these Spanish adventurers | 
broke. A power-boat takes tourists | 
for a trip westward for ten miles | 
along the coast from Colon, to see | 
the vine-smothered ruins of old Fort | 
San Lorenzo. From there it chugs | 
up the river to Gatun Dam which j 
has been built across the stream on g 
the edge of the plateau. | 

A sluggish river, now that it has | 
been tamed by the dam, it flows be- | 
tween the green walls of the tropic | 
forest which springs from the water’s | 
edge. There are no banks. A rise | 
of twelve inches floods the border- | 
ing land. At all times, mangrove | 
trees wade out on their stilt-like [ 
roots, on which snakes and alligators | 
sun themselves. Those forest walls, | 
which rise higher than the two-hun- | 
dred-foot width of the river, look 1 
to be only screens of green and gold 1 
lace—ferns, sensitive plants, flower- | 


230 




♦ # 


»» 


or 

can 


—everything is 
woven into a mat 
by vines as tough 
as wire and rope, 
and beset with 
thorns and prick¬ 
les. No man 
large animal 
force a way 
through. Above 
are brilliant birds, 
monkeys and 
climbing snakes ; 
and below, in the 
moss and fungi- 
carpeted bog, are 
alligators, lizards 
and other reptiles. 
And such color! 
Bright purple and 
yellow trees,thick¬ 
ets of scarlet hi¬ 
biscus, and orchids 
airy, multicol— 


A Lighthouse in the Forest 


THE PANAMA CANAL 

ing shrubs,, delicate creepers and even standing erect, they propel | 
slender saplings. But from earth to these boats skillfully with long poles | 
tree-tops, there are shafts as tall braced against trees or the river bot- | 
as light-houses, with gleaming, san- tom. They even venture out in 1 
dle-like blossoms ..... . . - foaming floods | 

and shoot danger- | 
ous rapids. They | 
build their palm- | 
thatched huts on | 
upland bluffs and, | 
planting a few | 
banana trees and | 
cultivating a patch | 
of yams, take life | 
easy. What little | 
money they need | 
for their scant | 
clothing can be | 
made by catching | 
parrots for the j 
northern market; | 
hunting the igu- | 
ana, an edible j 
lizard; fishing for | 
the shell tortoise | 
and diving for | 
pearls on the west | 
coast. The Span- | 

I in airv, muiticoi- mt ish people are 1 

traders in the | 
coast towns, or j 
they grow coffee, | 
vanilla beans or I 
indigo, manage | 
stock farms, or j 
operate gold | 
mines in their primitive way. | 


ored flocks like 
butterflies. 

Swarms of sting¬ 
ing insects, in 
burnished metal 
colors, are thrown 
out upon the for¬ 
est screen like spray from a sea of 
life. It fills the eye with dazzling 
beauty and the heart with fear. 

The natives of Panama, and nine- 
tenths of the four hundred thousand 
people of this little republic, which 
is smaller than the state of Indiana, 
are still of Indian or mixed blood. 
You can see them on the Chagres 
in the cayucas, or hollowed tree- 
trunk canoes, such as they used in 
Balboa’s day. Sitting carelessly, or 


The lighthouses around Gatun Lake are part 
of the wonderful lighting system of the canal. 
They are built before the Gatun Dam was com¬ 
pleted and stood, at first, in the midst of the 
forest. After the Chagres was dammed, the 
water spread out to where the lighthouses stand. 


The French and the Canal 

These people, too, like the Mexi¬ 
cans, won their freedom from Spain 
and then impoverished themselves 
by long civil wars. With some such 
leader as President Diaz they might, 
themselves, have built the railroad 
which an American company car¬ 
ried across the isthmus after gold 
was discovered in California in 


231 




^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim PICTURED KNOWLEDGE BimmiiiiuiHiiiiHiiiiiuiiiiiOiiiiiiimiuiiuiiiiffliiffliniiiMiiiiiiinimig 


1849. Passengers who were saved 
the long voyage around Cape Horn, 
or the caravan trip across our thou¬ 
sand-mile-wide mountain and desert 
region, cheer- 


Then, M. De Lesseps, the famous 
engineer of the Suez Canal in 
Egypt, toiled at the Panama water¬ 
way for a quarter of a century. He 

sacrificed twen¬ 


fully paid $25 
fare to be set 
across Panama. 

So much 
money was 
made by the 
railroad that a 
F r e n c h com- 
p a n y was 
formed to dig a 
canal. 

How the French 
Began the Canal 

The French 
were not fright- 
ened by the 
fearful human 
cost of that 
railroad. En¬ 
gineers knew 
how to cross 
m o u ntains, 
bridge torrents 
and level for¬ 
ests. But never 
before had a 
firm road-bed 
been made 

across a seven-mile-wide swamp, 
two hundred feet deep in ooze. Six 
thousand men died of yellow, 
malaria and typhoid 
fever, between Colon and 
the edge of the plateau 
for every tie laid. Men 
worked, standing in rotting mud to 
their armpits, amid clouds of poison¬ 
ous mosquitoes and flies. Alligators 
and boa constrictors looked on from 
logs and over-hanging trees, as they 
slept or ate their lunches. But that 
necessary task was done. Aren’t 
you proud of such brave men? 


The Foundations of the Balboa Docks 


Balboa, the new American town on the western 
side of the canal, has fine docks that can give the 
best of accommodations to passing ships. These 
workmen are sinking a cement caisson, one of sev¬ 
eral that form the foundations of the dock. 


s Alligators 
§f and Snakes 
H Looked On 

1 —a life 


ty thousand 
lives to tropic 
diseases, and 
spent $26o,- 
coo,ooo. Pana¬ 
ma got such a 
name as a pest- 
h o 1 e that men 
fled from it in 
terror. The 
company bank¬ 
rupt, D e Les¬ 
seps went home, 
old and broken¬ 
hearted, leaving 
h i s buildings, 
machinery, 
half-dug ditch, 
and acres of 
little white 
head-stones to 
mildew, rust, 
flood and piti¬ 
less jungle. 

Then Uncle Sam 
Rolled Up His 
Sleeves! 

The people of 
the United States were sorry that the 
French failed, but they were not dis¬ 
couraged. We needed that canal, 
and it must be finished. Our Pacific 
Coast, three thousand miles overland 
from the Atlantic, was becoming 
thickly settled. Alaska was develop¬ 
ing; and we had islands, east and 
west, and a growing trade with 
China, Japan and the 
west coast of South 
America. To be sure we 
had four transcontinental railroads 
by that time, but land freight rates 
for such long distances are too high 


The Canal 
and the 
Railroads 


8 




232 




IpuiiiiM THE PANAMA CANAL nnnmiinminmimniminmwiuimimniminnnniiRniuinnnimH^ ^ 







A Big Dipper Dredge 



© Munn & Co. 

Thirty-four men are standing in the cup of this hydraulic dipper dredge. The dipper can 
pick up, in one mouthful, fifteen cubic yards or twenty tons of soil. It is eleven feet high and 
the arm carrying it is seventy-two feet long. Beside cutting down the side of a hill, the dipper 
can dig out soil fifty feet under water. This dredge has another dipper of ten cubic yards 
capacity. There were two of these monsters at work on the Panama Canal, and together they 
took out about six hundred thousand cubic yards of material a month. 


for such bulky things as wheat, lum¬ 
ber, coal, rice, crockery, cotton, ma¬ 
chinery and furniture. With a 
shortened voyage many useful things 
could be carried cheaper by water. 
Besides, in a big war, we might need 
to move our naval vessels from one 
ocean to another very quickly. 

Here was the “big job” that could 
be done only by a big, rich, ener¬ 


getic and inventive nation. So the 
United States bought the Panama 
railroad, and the canal works and 

Purchase of rights of the French 
the Canal owners, paying $40,000,- 

Z°ne 000 for them. And we 

paid $10,000,000, and a yearly rental 
of $250,000 to the Republic of 
Panama for the privilege of finishing 
the waterway, and for the lease of 




233 












PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


A Culebra Cut Landslide 


quered disease and death in the 
Canal Zone. When that was 
done an army of workers 
swarmed in through Colon. 
There were commissioners, en¬ 
gineers, electricians, draftsmen, 
foremen, telegraph line-men 
and operators, railroad crews, 
machinists, blasters, dredgers, 
cement-mixers, health officers 
and nurses, teachers, stenog¬ 
raphers, clerks, mothers with 
their children, and thousands 
of laborers, black and white. 


What Colonel Goethals Did 

Temporary towns had to be 
built with dwelling houses, 
hotels, schools, offices, stores 
and hospitals. The railroad 
was partly rebuilt and supplied 
with new cars and locomotives. 


© Keystone View Co. 

A landslide begins as a big crevasse or crack in 
the earth. This is part of the embankment at Culebra 
Cut, showing the beginning of one of the many 
landslides here. 


Like an Earthquake Shock 


This is the explosion of a one hundred and eighty-pound 
charge of dynamite, used in blasting out a hillside. 


234 















THE PANAMA CANAL 


Why the Canal is a Wonderful Feat of Engineering 


V 
♦ ♦ 


= © Keystone View Co. -- 

Here are ten million cubic yards of earth lying across the partially dredged channel of the canal. 
It was landslides such as this one, entirely blocking the canal, that gave the engineers so much 
= trouble. 


Eating Up a Hillside 


H © Keystone View Co. 

Here is a steam shovel taking 
= hillside at Culebra Cut. 


a good-sized bite out of a 


Then Colonel Goethals, j 
an army engineer, was | 
made “Boss of the Big | 
Job” and the dirt began | 
to fly. You must read j 
our story of him, too, | 
and learn how a great | 
commander of men, | 
when given the power | 
of a Czar of Russia, gets | 

With things done. | 

$ 400 , 000,000 Partly, too, | 
and the Man because of I 

the vast amount of use- | 
ful work done by the | 
French, the task was | 
completed in nine years, | 
at a cost of less than | 
$400,000,000. Together | 
France and the United | 
States have poured more | 
gold back into Panama | 


it-: 


235 










How the Locks Were Built 



concern *ucK 6 f\ / 
,%■ runic V»»CAfACtrm«-k 


SECTION SHOWING. WALLS 
OF LOCK IN COURSE OF 


NStRuCTlO: 


for SARSNSani 

.owtMNevvAry 


slcTiOH SHOWING mowwa 


lateral culvert 

UWOtMOCK FLOP A 


>* VtLT IN TWRO fLOOR. of IQ< 


This diagram shows the movable scaffolding used to build the locks at Panama. A cross-section 
of the half-finished lock is shown at the left of the picture. There are three pairs of these 
locks, each 1,000 feet long, 110 feet wide and 43 feet deep. They are the finest ever built. The 
culvert and passageway at the side, leading to the opening in the floor, are built in the solid 
concrete and will fill the lock with water in fifteen minutes, 
scaffolding is mounted can be seen on the track at the left. 


One of the cars on which the 




machinefvt 

HOUSE 


mr 'culvert M sioe wmuiock. 


236 
















































tv 


PANAMA CANAL 


:: 


than the Spaniards took out of Mex- 
and Peru. And we have made 


P ICO 


something of priceless value to the 
world, while the Spaniards only de¬ 
stroyed. 

So it was we who truly celebrated 
Balboa’s discovery. It was on the 


public of Panama marked it ,by 
putting a new motto on its official 
seal: “A Land Divided, The Oceans 
United.” 

How the Great Work Was Done 

Presently we will take a trip 


The Dry Docks at Balboa 


This is a view of the Balboa dry docks looking toward the water gates. They are part of 
Balboa’s equipment for accommodating and repairing ships. 1§ 


tenth of October, 1913, four hun¬ 
dred years to the day, that Presi¬ 
dent Wilson in the White House in 
Washington, opened the Panama 
Canal by pressing a telegraph key. 
Opening of A spark flashed over 
the Big land wires and sea 

cables, setting off a 
charge of dynamite that blew out a 
temporary dyke. A flood rushed 
through a rock-walled rift in * the 
mountains. The waters of the 
Chagres River, of the Atlantic slope, 
fell down through locks to the Pa¬ 
cific. The first boat to go through 
was a native cayuca. A red-letter 
day for all the world, the little Re- 


through the Panama Canal, so you | 
will want to understand what you j 
will see. The engineers did think | 
of cutting a sea-level channel, or | 
true ocean strait. But, besides the | 
great amount of blasting and dig- j 
ging to be done—a truly appalling | 
task—^land-slides and floods might | 

The Digging have been impossible to | 
and the control. In making the 1 

Dynamite Jock cana ^ the natural | 

levels of the land were used. Deep j 
dredging opened channels across | 
shallow bays and swamps. On the | 
plateau the foothills along the right | 
of way, and the mountain range, | 
were blasted out with dynamite. 


♦ ♦ 


23; 






















giniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii™ 

| The Gatun Spillway | 



As you enter the lake you can see the Gatun Dam, which holds all these waters on the plateau. 
An enormous embankment a mile and a half long, it connects two natural hills. At its center 
is another hill, whose solid rocks have been pierced and lined with cement to make the spillway 
for the escape of flood waters into the lower Chagres. Fifteen thousand cubic feet of flood water 
a second is plunging over the spillway. 


The straggling basin of the up- 
| per Chagres, banked by its own 
| bordering hills, was then turned into 
| a lake, by building a great dam 
| across the river on the eastern edge 
[ of the plateau. The engineers thus 
j avoided having to cross and re- 
| cross the Chagres River, and they 
| also secured an enormous elevated 
| reservoir of water to supply the 
| locks. This lake is kept at one level 
| no matter how heavy the rainfall, 
| by letting surplus water escape 

| Making tie through a spillway, in 
| Stairs for the the middle of the dam, 
| Shifts to Chmh j n j- 0 the lower Chagres. 

| From the eastern and western edges 
| of the plateau, ships are lifted and 
| lowered through three great pairs 
| of locks. Our Canal is, really, a 
| water-bridge. Water stair-steps 
| lead up to a center span which, 
| thirty-two miles in length, is lifted 


eighty-five feet high and carried in j 
a low arch across the isthmus. 

Let us imagine that we have taken | 
a steamer at New York, sailed down | 
the Atlantic Coast, passed the West j 
India Islands and run across the | 
long rollers of the Caribbean Sea. | 

Here We Co ’ S 3S blue aS indigo. | 

Through On every shore fringed | 
the Canal! with cocoa palm trees, | 

it breaks in foam-crested waves. | 
Passengers rush on deck, when the | 
watch reports “Toro Light.” This | 
is the light-house on Toro Point | 
which guards Limon Bay. Behind 1 
the long break-water, the Panama | 
Canal begins, three miles out in the | 
Caribbean. A channel, five hundred 1 
feet wide and forty deep, was | 
dredged out of this shallow bay. | 
The harbor is covered with ships. | 
Big freighters, passenger steamers, | 
war vessels and pleasure yachts, un- | 




♦# 


238 

















:!Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii[||||||iiiiii(iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii THE PANAMA CANAL iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 


What the Locks Look Like 


Entering the Miraflores Locks from the South 


The Miraflores Locks Looking North 


239 










29 


The Panama Locks and the 


1. The central board 
from which the lock 
mechanism is operated. 
The board is a minia¬ 
ture reproduction of the 
lock it controls. 


2. The gate-opening 
machine which is start¬ 
ed and stopped from 
the control boards. 


3. A conduit for elec¬ 
trical connections. 


This model of the 
Miraflores lock shows 
how the great water 
gates are opened and 
shut to let the ships 
through and how the 
waiter is controlled so 
as to help them climb 
up the water stairways 
and then climb down 
again. 

The “operating 
board” at 1 has on 
it what you might call 
“toy” reproductions of 
each part of the ma¬ 
chinery; a kind of pic¬ 
ture language which 
will help the operator 
to remember just what 
he is doing. One of these little reproductions 
is called a “chain fender.” This chain, under 
the operator’s eyes, rises and falls with the 
big lock chain shown at 7. Another device has 



(c; Munn tfc Co. 


a slab of blue marble, to represent the water 
of the lock. Across it reach the leaves repre¬ 
senting the big gates; and they open and shut 
just as if they were consciously imitating the 


*> 

♦V 


240 









Wonderful Mechanical Brain 


4. The transfor m e r 
room. 


5. An electric towing 
locomotive. 


6. The intermediate = 
lock gate. = 


7. The hydraulically n 
operated fender chain = 
which prevents the ship = 
from colliding with the n 
lock gates. 


locomotive has similar || 
indicators to show the §j 
pressure of steam and || 
the amount of water in |§ 
the boiler. But—most |§ 
wonderful of all—is §§ 
what might be called g 
the “automatic brain,” || 
that part of the mech- p 
anism which compels |§ 
the operator to move g 
his levers in just a §| 
definite order. He can- §j 
not make a mistake, ff 
All he is needed for g 
is to set the machinery || 
in motion when need- || 
ed and to stop it. This g 
“brain” is underneath g 
the control board, and g 
is called an interlocking system. Step No. 2 can’t || 
be taken until Step No. 1 is finished, just as you || 
can’t open a door until you turn back the bolt, and |§ 
you can’t turn the bolt until you insert the key. || 


big water gates. Another device is like _ a 
thermometer—a tall, slim tube, in which an in¬ 
dicator rises and falls as the level of the water 
in the canal rises and falls. The engineer in a 


241 


















^!!lllll!ll!llllilll!lllllllllllllllllllll!!l!!l!!llllllll!lllll!lllllllllllll!!lllllll!ll PICTURED KNOWLEDGE WIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIII* 


The Navy Needed the Canal 



“In a big war, we might need to move our naval vessels from one ocean to another very 
quickly.” Here are the “Missouri” and the “Ohio,” United States battleships, going through 
the locks. The picture gives you a good view of the “four electric locomotives on the walls, 
that are hitched to bow and stern and pull the ship into the lock.” 


der gay flags of a dozen nations, 
take their place in the processions 
passing into and out of the Canal. 

On the left you can see the white 
houses and red roofs of the old 
Spanish city of Colon under the 
palms, and on the right, the ware¬ 
houses and docks of the new Ameri¬ 
can port of Cristobal. Cristobal- 
A n( 2 Colon is French-Span- 

Columlus ish for Christopher Co- 

Looks On lumbus. The palace 

built for De Lesseps, the French en¬ 
gineer, stands here, and the bronze 
statue of Columbus — a gift to 
Panama from the Empress Eugenia. 
The ships of the world pass under 
the eyes of the great navigator. 
Here, at last, is his ocean strait. 

Into the First Great Lock 

Our ship steams across the low 
coastal belt. The tropical forest has 


been pushed back; but we can see it 
on either side, a green and blossomy 
ocean engulfing the land. Then the 
shores begin to rise, and the water¬ 
way to bore into the hills. Sud¬ 
denly a wall of cement and stone 
blocks the way. This is the gate of 

First Ste6U6 t ^ e fi rst lock, or double 
the Water gate. The right-half of 
Stairway ft opens in two wide 

leaves against the side walls, for 
here the channel is divided by a 
center wall, for incoming and out¬ 
going ships. The engines of the 
vessels are stopped here, and four 
electric locomotives, on the walls, are 
hitched to bow and stern and pull 
the ship into the lock. The gates 
close behind, shutting the vessel in¬ 
to a thousand-foot-long chamber. 
Water let in from above lifts the 
ship to the level of the water in 
the next lock. Then the upper 



242 









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J *»iN;w«c a , 


A Bird’s Eye View of the Shortened Routes 




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This is how the canal would look if you could get a bird’s-eye view of it. It shows you how 
the ships climb to Gatum Lake and go down again on the other side. Find the railroad that runs 
along, roughly parallel to the canal, from Colon to Balboa. , _ _ . ... 

Here you also learn more about the “short cut.” It brings Liverpool and San Francisco 6,000 
miles nearer together, makes the trip from London to Honolulu 4,500 miles shorter, and cuts off 
8.000 miles of the distance between New York and San Francisco. 


243 








^iiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiini PICTURED 

| gates are opened. Three steps lift 
| the ship eighty-five feet. On leav- 
| ing the last lock the engines start 
| again and the vessel is off, full 
| speed, for the twenty-four-mile run 
| across Gatun Lake. 

To the right, as you enter the 
| lake, you can see Gatun Dam which 


KNOWLEDGE Diiiniiiiiffliiinrainnniiiniiiiiiniiinniiiiiiraiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiig 

of flood waters into the lower Cha- | 
gres. The dam was filled in with j 
rock and earth blasted out of the | 
foot-hills and the mountain range. | 
In crossing the lake the Canal [ 
makes eight turns, following the old [ 
valley of the Chagres River, where | 
a channel five hundred feet wide has 1 


A Baseball Game Under the Palm Trees 


The blistering, tropic sun is not too hot for the en¬ 
joyment of baseball. The trees surrounding the diamond 
are cocoanut palms. The picture was taken at Toro 
Point and shows a hotly contested game between the 
Culebra and Toro Point teams, in which the former won. 


| holds all these waters on the pla- 
| teau. An enormous embankment a 
| mile and a half long, it connects 

two natural hills. At its 
center is another hill, 
whose solid rocks have 
been pierced and lined with cement, 
to make the spillway for the escape 


‘'Passing the 
Gatun 
\Dam 


been deepened to forty feet. Ships 
are guided by range-lights, in pairs 
of concrete towers sixty feet high, as 

The BriKant are automobiles by arc- 
Water lights on a city boule- 

Boulevard yard. All the lamps are 

on one circuit and are lighted by 
pushing a button. The electricity 




244 


iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiillliiiili THE PANAMA CANAL iiiiiiiiliillillii!iliiliil!Uliilil!lililillilliliiiliiillii!illiiii!ii!iiiii^ 


for lighting the Canal, operating the 
hidden machinery of the locks, and 
running the towing locomotives on 
the walls and partition of the locks, 
is supplied by the water-power at 
Gatun Dam. At night the Canal, 
from ocean to ocean, is a brightly 
lighted water boulevard, bordered 
by the beautiful tropic wilderness. 
A palm-thatched hut perches on 
every hilltop, the cayuca darts in 
the wake of the steamer, groves of 
drowned trees lift their heads above 
the waters of the lake, quite dead 
but still draped with vines and Span¬ 
ish moss. 

Through the Famous Culebra Cut 

From Gatun Lake the Canal 
passes into Culebra Cut. This is 
that mighty rift in the mountains. 
Three hundred feet wide at the bot¬ 
tom, it slopes up to towering cliffs 
that are, already, covered with tropi¬ 
cal vegetation. Dynamite blasted 
out the rock here, rending the ridge 
like earthquake shocks. Those ex¬ 
plosions may have loosened layers 
of clay and soft stone, for there were 
troublesome landslides. 

Through one lock our ship drops 
down from Culebra Cut to Lake 
Mirafiores, two miles wide. Two 
more locks lower it to tidewater. 
From the Canal we can see Balboa 
Hill which the explorer climbed to 
Now Down “stare at the Pacific.” It 
the Stefs overlooks the bay of San 

9°- Miguel, and the new 

American port of Balboa. A trolley 
line runs down the coast to Panama 
City, the old Spanish capital, a 


ragged, gay, bright-colored, degen¬ 
erate old tropical town ; but cleaned, 
drained, paved and healthy for the 
first time in its four hundred years 
of history. 

Balboa, the Caned, and the Future 

It is believed Balboa will grow 
up into the greatest of all tropic 
seaports. Here are docks for ships, 
dry-docks for repairs, coal docks, 
machine shops, warehouses, a naval 
station. And out on the three 
islands which guard the bay the 
United States has forts to defend the 
Canal. 

Look back as you steam out into 
the Pacific. The shore seems to 
spring abruptly from the water. 
There is no sand beach, no jungle. 
Pearl divers drop from boats into 
the bay. Cattle graze on the clean, 
grassy slopes. There is gold in the 
Spread of mountains. From the 
the Shifting bay the ships spread 
Routes like the ribs of a palm- 

leaf fan, going north, west and 
south, to California and Alaska, to 
China, Japan, the Philippines and 
to South America. Seven hours, 
now, to cross the Isthmus by our 
water bridge, and they are away 
again to all Pacific ports. 

Here is the stage setting for a 
great drama of human achievement. 
It was there to be conquered. For 
four centuries it enlisted dreams, 
genius, courage, sacrifice, treasure, 
wounds and death. In all its lovely 
length our Isthmian waterway is 
guarded by the memories of brave, 
devoted men. 


nS 


245 





( CLEAR. 
5TR0N6 EYE5 


THE BODIES 
WE LIVE IN 



PROPER 
EXERCISE! 


uisa 

111 UlZ- 

5c^- 

u. ox 


jUlO 

oSO 

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What Strange Land Is This? 

A Remarkable Community of Millions that Is Not Even Mentioned in Your 
Geography or History. They Have Machines that Run and Repair Themselves, 
Cameras that Take Pictures in Colors, Telephones that Record Sounds, Policemen 
that Never Fail to do Their Duty, Citizens that Love One Another Better than 
Themselves and Many Other Things You Would Hardly Believe. 


S OME years ago there was lo¬ 
cated near Oneida, New York, 
a community of about three hun¬ 
dred people who formed a com¬ 
mune; that is, they shared equally 
in the work and in the responsibil¬ 
ities, and also shared equally in 
the gains and privileges. 

This commune did not succeed 
financially, and after some years 
disbanded as a commune. There 
are, however, other communes 
which have succeeded 
Where Are ; n their plan of co-op- 

Communes? eration. In these 
communities there are 
not only three hundred members, 
but more than a million members, 
all sharing equally. These com¬ 
munes are all so similar in their 
plans and methods that if I de¬ 
scribe one you will readily under¬ 
stand them all. 

The members of this community 
are divided into groups according 
to the work which they can do the 
best. These groups are again di¬ 
vided so that each group attends 
to a certain part of that kind of 
work, and these again into smaller 
groups which correspond to our 
families, but who are, however, 
not families. 

f 

What a Lot of Clever People! 

Each group of workers is made 
up of specialists in that kind of 


work. In fact, they can do that 
particular thing better than it is 
done anywhere else or by anyone 
outside of these communities. 

Everything used by these 
groups must be made within the 
community. Moreover, having 
such well educated and thorough¬ 
ly prepared workmen, they are 
able to produce as fine an article 
as can be made. It is not only be¬ 
cause they have such superior 
skill that they prefer to make all 
their own food, but because, being 
peculiarly constituted, they re¬ 
quire a liquid diet even though 
they are neither babies nor inva¬ 
lids. 

Think how much work it must 
entail to feed millions of people on 
a liquid diet which yet must 
contain all the same elements of 

Like baling food which we need; 
an Egg starches, sugars, al- 

Lemonade bumins, fats and salts. 

These foods must pass through a 
mill to be ground and must be 
shaken up with liquid much as you 
shake up an egg lemonade. In 
short, the form and condition of 
all food used in the community 
must be changed and mixed with 
water until it is about as thin as 
milk. 

It takes many factories working 
night and day to grind such an 
immense amount of liquid food. 


lTI 



246 








































































♦> 

♦> 


A MARVELOUS COMMUNITY 


As there are no horses or wag- 
| ons, no automobiles, street cars nor 
| trains in these communities, they 
| have devised another way of trans- 
| porting things, which we shall tell 
| you about after we have seen some 
| other parts of the community. 

Where is This “United States”? 

While no one person can be said 
| to be ruler of the commune, yet there 
| is a group of individuals who govern 
| the whole body, with the help of 
| many other groups. These individu¬ 
al Each for All a ls we re especially 
| an< l trained for this work and 

| All for Each are g0 devoted to the in- 

| terests of the community that they 
| practically live in their places of 
| business, work in harmony and pre- 
| vent friction. 

No doubt you are wondering why 
| you have never heard of these won- 
| derful individuals before, and won- 
| der, too, where these communities 
| are located. Perhaps if I were to 
| call them by name you might remem- 
| ber having heard of them, but did 
| not know they were communes. And 
| as for their locations, that is the fun- 
| niest part of it all, for they are not 
| located in any particular place, but 
| are nomadic—that is, they go from 
| place to place as it seems best for 
| the community. 

If the governing group receives 
| word that a particular locality is 
| lacking in any respect, information is 
| sought at once as to a better place for 
| that special thing, and when the in- 
| formation is received the order is 
I New given for the movers to 

| Settlements take charge and move 
| to Order ! the community to this 

[ better place. These movers are so 
| skilful and hold themselves in such 
1 perfect readiness that they begin to 
I move as soon as the order is received 


and yet disturb none of the activi¬ 
ties of the commune. 

When a new location is chosen 
everything goes — mills, factories, 
telephone, telegraph and electric 
plants. 

In every new location pictures are 
taken by color photography, of 
everything in sight—bad as well as 
good things. These photos are used 
The Music later to instruct, to enter- 
and the tain and to amuse the in- 

Picture Show habitantS) and afe kept 

stored in one of the offices of the 
governing body, which body decides 
when and how they shall be used. 

In addition to this, there are 
trained listeners who make a busi¬ 
ness of hearing all that is said and 
of making records of music, lectures, 
dialogues, bird songs, etc., to recall 
to the community its past experi¬ 
ences and to give it pleasure. 

Where Everything Goes to Mill 

It will be worth your while to 
spend some time in visiting some of 
the factories. Let us go first to the 
mill which is always placed at the 
main entrance of the community. 
Here you will find busy workers ap¬ 
proaching the mill heavily loaded 
with foods of various kinds, all of 
which are to be ground in the mill. 
You remember that these commun¬ 
ity people, living wholly on liquid 
as they do, grind not only their cof¬ 
fee and their grain, but everything 
which they use for food—meat, veg¬ 
etables, fruits and eggs (after the 
shells are removed, of course). 

The “Safety First” Policy 

Do you remember how kings, in 
olden days, used to keep a taster to 
taste all the king’s food and drink 
before he touched it? This was 
done to see that it was not poisoned. 




♦# 


247 



Laboratories 


Tubes from 
middle-sized 


Tubes from 
smallest 


Laboratories 




mm 


% mwm afellilll 
% / 






V 


Here we see some “grist” being brought to the community mill—a nice piece of bread and 
butter. The sharp choppers cut it into large blocks. If it were a piece of meat the shredders 
would tear it up. Notice that the little inspector who represents the sense of taste in the tongue 
is right on hand to see that the grist is of good quality. On either side are the tubes leading from 
the saliva laboratories, and these begin pouring the saliva on the food as soon as it gets into the 
mill and continue until it passes out and into the kitchen. The grist keeps getting finer and finer 
as it proceeds on its journey, being treated first by the coarse grinders, and last of all by the fine 
grinders. All this while the little mixer, the tongue,—represented by the figure with the shovel—is 
turning it over and over and passing it back and forth so that the digestive saliva may be thoroughly 
mixed with it. 


Well, although this community we 
| are talking about is a republic, and 
| not a kingdom, it has a somewhat 

| The Grinder, similar system. There 
| and are two groups of sharp- 

| The Mixers e y e d inspectors, one 

| group of keen tasters and one group 
| of expert smellers who give judg- 
| ment on all foods brought in to be 
| ground, and refuse those which do 
| not come up to their standard of 
| value. 

Having passed the censors, the 
| different foods are emptied together 
| into the hopper to be ground. The 
| grinding process is somewhat like 
| the old-fashioned grinding between 
| two stones and somewhat like the 
| modern roller process, yet better 


Opened 

By 

The Censor 


than either. During the grinding 
the foods are moistened by an alka¬ 
line fluid which is man¬ 
ufactured right in the 
mill by chemists who 
do nothing else. This alkaline 
fluid is poured continually and 
automatically upon the food so 
long as the mill is working, 
and changes the starches to sugar. 
After one set of stones has ground 
the mixture, a group of muscular in¬ 
dividuals toss it about to mix it well 
and carry it to another set of stones 
to be ground still finer. When it has 
become a creamy, paste-like mass it 
is sent to a central room, from which 
it enters a long dark passage lead¬ 
ing to the kitchen. 


THE MARVELOUS COMMUNITY 

The Community Mill 




i*: 


248 















^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim ^ MARVELOUS 

This first factory produces only 
| acids which change albumins (egg, 

| nuts, lean meat, beans, cheese, etc.) 

| to a digested form, the dwellers in 
| this commune being able to use only 
| pre-digested foods. Here the chem- 
| ists separate out the foods, digest the 
| albumins and pass them on, together 
| with the sugars and fats and any 
| left-over starches, to the next 
| factory. 

In the second factory the cliem- 
| ists deal only with alkaline fluids 
| and with these they change the 
| starch left-overs and emulsify the 
| fats. Do you know what emulsify 
I means? It means to separate the 
| globules of fat from each other and 
| hold them suspended in the liquid 
| as the cream globules are suspended 
| in milk, making it white in color. 

The chemicals for use in this sec- 
| ond factory are not ijiade there. 

I TheLalcra- The y are so complicated 
H tories and that they have to be 
| Their Pips ma de by special chem- 

| ists in neighboring laboratories from 
| which they are sent to the factories 
| in pipes. 

After the food materials have been 
| through the mill, have been treated 
| by the chemists in the two kitchens 
| or factories, and have been mixed 
| with water, they are ready for the 
| use of the community. 

The Wonderful “Town Pump” 

To transport liquid, perishable 
| food to so many consumers in a place 
| where there are no so-called modern 
| conveyances is a big problem, yet 
| these keen thinkers have solved it 
| in a perfect way. They have devised 
| a system of tubes through which the 
| liquid is pumped by a double-cham- 
1 bered pump to every part of the 
| community. When the prepared 
| food passes out of the second fac- 


COMMUNITY iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiij*: 

tory it is forced into a long tube 
where it comes in contact with va¬ 
rious fluids. I he walls of this cylin¬ 
der are furnished with numberless 
tiny holes through which the liquid 
passes into very small tubes, groups 
of which unite to form larger tubes 
which later unite in one large tube 
which carries the liquid to the pump¬ 
ing station. 

This perfect pumping station not 
only sends the liquid food to every 

Self-Repair- g r0U P in the community, 
ing and but it furnishes its own 

Self-Acting power and keeps itself in 
repair. 

You would expect that anything 
so important as the pumping station 
upon whose activity all the members 
depend for food would be under the 
management of the head office, or, 
indeed, be located in the capital 
itself, but that is not the case. It is 
much more convenient for the 
pumping station to be near the food 
factories which send a constant 
stream of food to be distributed by 
the pumping system. Curiously 
enough, the pump is not even man¬ 
aged by the main office, but rather 
by one of the self-governing relay 
stations which tends exclusively to 
this piece of business. You see, so 
important a thing could not be left 
to a busy office where many other 
things are being done, for fear it 
might be forgotten in the midst of 

A Pumf s0 muc h work. If the 
That Never pump should stop work, 
Stop a p ar {. or a q 0 f the com¬ 

munity might die of starvation. If 
it should stop for only one minute, 
the various parts of the community 
would be gasping for air or oxygen; 
while a stop of five minutes would 
probably cause the destruction of the 
whole community. You remember 
that they have no supply stored up 




249 


8ltlll!llllll!llj||]lllllltllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!ltllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!llllllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllM^ 


tv 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 




| for such an event, but live from hand 
| to mouth, drawing their food supply 
| from the liquid as it flows past. 

“A Little Fresh Air, Please!” 

As soon as the liquid pours into 
| the pumping station it is all pumped 
| by one chamber of this pump into a 
| large tube leading to what we may 
| call the “air station.” This air sta- 
| tion is a double compartment divid- 
| ed up into as many rooms as a 
| sponge is full of holes, and more. 

The air station is a laboratory 
| where the liquid is mixed with air. 
| In other words, the food is oxidized, 
| so we may call these factories the 
| oxidation laboratories. The mem- 

I Tailing bers of these communi- 

| Oxygen in ties need oxygen as much 
| Their Food ag y QU y e j. cur i 0 usly 

| enough, they can use it only after it 
| is mixed with the liquid food. 

In order better to understand what 
| is being done in the oxidation labor- 
| atories, let us go back to the gate 
| and see how the air is brought in. 

Whenever the community takes up 
| its residence in a new place, the sur- 
| rounding air is tested. If it is very 
| offensive an effort is made either to 
| remove the community or to purify 
| the air supply in some way. The air 
| enters through the community wall 
| by two openings placed high in the 
| wall. 

Where Every Day Is “Dusting Day” 

Here the air is tested and passed 
| through soft brushes which catch 
| and hold all dirt particles. The 
| Brushing dirt-free air then passes 
| the Dust Out into a central room and, 
| of the Air through a door which 

1 opens to admit it, into a passage 
| leading direct to the oxidation labo- 
| ratory. In this laboratory the chem- 
| ists separate the oxygen from the air 
& 


and empty it into the food as it j 
comes from the pumping station. | 
The change in the food-stream pro- | 
duced by the addition of oxygen is J 
wonderful. From a dull, lifeless | 
liquid it becomes brilliant and beau- | 
tiful. It is again sent back to the j 
pumping station, this time to the | 
second pump chamber, which pumps | 
it to the remotest part of the com- | 
munity as well as to the nearby | 
groups. It is carried in tubes of | 
gradually decreasing size, like those | 
of a city water system. The smallest | 
pipes go to the family-like groups | 
where each individual draws out | 
what he needs and no more. 

The Pleasant Land of Plenty § 

It is of no use for one to take more j 
than he can use, for under all nor- | 
Where mal circumstances there | 

Nobody is is an ever ready supply. | 
Ever Greedy Some few groups do try | 

to store up a supply for emergency, | 
but it is not good economy, for it | 
hinders their work and is in the way. | 

Nothing has yet been said regard- | 
ing the sewerage. It stands to rea- | 
son that there must be waste from | 
the factories and refuse from the in- | 
dividuals and the groups. If we go | 
back to the second kitchen, we find | 
that all the waste from both kitchens | 
is pushed past the openings through j 
which the food flows, into a large | 
tube like a sewer pipe, through | 
which it is carried out of the com- | 
munity. That disposes of all factory I 
waste, but does not carry the individ- | 
ual and group refuse. From every | 
Why No family-like group there j 
Waste extends a small refuse g 

is Wasted pipe emptying into a | 

main which carries it to several labo- | 
ratories. Here all waste materials | 
are sorted out; those that are useful | 
are sent to be used in the community, | 


♦♦ 


250 



How the Community Purifies its Breath 


iVITY 


* Dust a nc 
to the Oxidat, 


One of man’s greatest problems has been how to supply pure air to buildings, and, in winter, 
how to warm them. This picture illustrates how perfectly nature solved the problem for man himself. 
The air we breathe through our noses is compelled to go through those crooked passages, so that 
it is not only warmed in winter, thus protecting the delicate tissues of the lungs, but the impurities 


in it are collected on the hairs that line these passages. When we breathe the air out it goes by 
a short, straight route because we need to get rid of it with as little delay and effort as possible. 
The insert picture in the lower left-hand corner shows what happens when we breathe through the 
mouth—the air comes straight in, carrying all its impurities directly into the lungs. 


Nerve Connections v^ hHe . a . 


Almost S tr d 

, i i f./ f / I ! I ; . 


WHEN THE DOOR IS OPEN 


251 







































^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin PICTURED 

| while the useless part passes from the 
| community through special sewer 
| pipes. 

Can you imagine a community so 
| perfectly ordered and so well served 
| that no one need go out to select or 
| to buy his food, but where one has 
| only to draw his food from a pipe as 
| we draw water at the hydrant? 

Think of the simplicity of a whole 
| community which is satisfied with 
| practically the same food, served in 
| exactly the same way, year in and 
| year out! 

You say, perhaps, that even if they 
| need not go out to buy food, they 
| must go to buy clothes! But no, 

I Where the these unic l ue creatures 
H Fashions “live in their skins,” 
I Never Change p a yi n g n0 attention to 

| changing styles and fashions. They 
| must, however, make their skins; so 
| it keeps a good many groups of 
| workers busy, winter and summer, 
| making and keeping them in repair. 

Wonders of the Capitol Building 

You have noticed by this time that 
| this community is exceptionally well 
| governed and managed and that it is 
| done quietly and without friction. 
| Would you like to visit the office of 
| the managers? These offices are sit- 
| uated in the capital building—one 
| of the busiest parts of the commu- 
I nity. 

To insure quick, instantaneous 
| communication with any group of 
| workers, a remarkable system of 
| telegraphy has been devised. It is 
| not quite like the Morse system, and 
| yet it is the original telegraph system 
| used long before Morse perfected his 
| system. 

The central telegraph station is the 
| organ through which information is 
| received and distributed by the gov- 
| ernment. As no one department 


KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

EE 

could attend to all the affairs of a j 
community of more than a million j 
members, there are various depart- | 
The Great ments which specialize in | 
Telegraph certain fields of govern- | 

System merit. Each department, | 

in addition to receiving and sending j 
the messages pertaining to its field | 
of work, must also make and keep g 
records of all those transactions | 
which are kept at the disposal of | 
that or any other department. 

Here in these offices is gathered | 
together the most wonderful library | 
of records known to mankind: rec- | 
ords of sights and sounds; of tastes | 
and smells; of touch and tempera- § 
j ture. Records of the 1 

Great Hall chemical tests made in | 
of Records the laboratories are all | 
stored here. Messages which come | 
in over the private wires are .all | 
classified and recorded. The spe- | 
cialists who analyze odors and tastes | 
send the results to these head offices, | 
where permanent records of these | 
tests are made. The groups who [ 
have especial skill amounting to an | 
actual sense for touch and tempera- | 
ture devote their lives to examining | 
things through this sense and in tab- | 
ulating the results. | 

Those individuals who have an es- | 
pecially acute sense of sight form the | 
Lookout Committee and spend their j 
entire time in the lookout stations | 
making observations, records of | 
which are also kept in the library. 

These principal departments of | 
the government are the Bureau of | 
Information, the Interpretation Bu- | 
reau, the Executive Bureau and the | 
Intelligence Bureau. 

The experts who are delegated to | 
the Information Bureau gather all | 
kinds of knowledge. Not only do | 
they study things within the com- | 
munity, but everything in the neigh- | 




252 


♦♦ 


A MARVELOUS COMMUNITY 

I borhood of the community. They The Substations and the Main Office 

| have a perfect army of workers who 




| are busy sending telegraphic and 
| Work of the telephonic messages of 
| Information unimportant as well as 
I Bureau important matters; for 

| the Information Bureau must be able 
| to give help on a moment’s notice on 
I practically every subject. Even these 
| expert and specialized workers 
| sometimes fail to find a record at 
| once. Workers are then detailed to 
| look it up and report as soon as it is 
| found. Occasionally a record can- 
| not be found even after patient 
| search, although it is there in its own 
| particular pigeonhole. 

What Busy Offices! 

The Interpretation Bureau does 
| not collect data, but it brings to- 
| gether all the information already 
| gathered upon any one subject, ar- 
| ranges and compares it, studies it 
| singly and together and decides upon 

1 Work of the its worth, its power, its 
i Interpretation usefulness, its relation to 
| Bureau other things, names it 

| and classifies it and then places the 
| result of its study on file at the dis- 
* | posal of higher departments which 
| might at any moment have a call for 
| such a name or such a valuation. 
| Think how many telegraph messages 
| pass between these two bureaus in 
| the process of such work as this, in 
| addition to all the messages sent 
| from the lookout stations and the 
| testing laboratories in collecting the 
| information ! 

Still, after all this has been done, 
| it remains for the Executive Depart- 
| ment to send any messages regard- 
| ing action. No community action, 
|* no group action, no individual action 
| can be carried out without orders 
| from this department or some one of 
i its branches. 


The head office of this bureau, 1 
as well as the head office of each of | 
the other two bureaus, is situated in 1 
the capitol building, but on certain | 
main lines of the community there 1 
are substations or relay stations. 

At the executive relay stations | 

the officials have power to act in | 

minor cases without consulting the | 

Bureau. They may not, however, | 

act without advice upon any new 1 

case except where immediate danger 1 

"Hello! is involved. New cases, j 

Central, What however simple, must go 1 
Shall We Dor-^ t to the h > ead office « to | 

be considered in the light of the in- g 
formation and interpretation of sim- | 
ilar or related cases. As there are § 
no information records stored in the | 
relay stations, these cases cannot be | 
acted upon there. When the head 1 
office has decided upon a case and | 
has repeatedly carried out a line of | 
action, then the relay officers can al- | 
ways act in the same way without 1 
advice from the capitol. | 

In case of danger to the commu- | 
nity, or to any part of it, from delay | 
caused by sending word to headquar- | 
ters and waiting for a reply, the re- | 
lay station may send an emergency | 
order for immediate action, followed | 
by a special message to headquarters j 
for advice as to further action. 

This- remarkable adjustment be- | 
tween superior and inferior officers | 
of the executive department plays an j 
important part in the safety and | 
well-being of the community. 

Then Come the Commissions 

These Bureaus are assisted by va- | 
rious commissions working under | 
their supervision. Under the Exec- | 
utive Bureau are the Transportation | 
Commission, the Food Commission j 
and the Police Commission. All out- 1 


a 




253 




PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


♦♦ 


| going telegraph and telephone mes- 
| sages are delegated to a special com- 
| mission under the Executive Bureau 
| which manages also the Ventilation 
| Commission and the Commission of 
| Public Works, which includes the 
| chemical works, milling works and 
| sewerage system. 

The Information Bureau manages 
| the Scorning telephone and tele- 
| graph messages and the Commis- 
| sions on Sights, Sounds, Touch, 
| Taste and Smell. 

The Transportation Commission 
[ has charge of all distribution of food 
| within the community, including the 
| wonderful system of pipes leading 
| from one factory to another, and the 
| still more wonderful system through 
| which the food in its finished form 
| reaches the consumer. 

The Food Commission has a fine 
| corps of workers who manage the 
| selection or rejection of foods of- 
| fered at the mill, the grinding and 
| liquefying of these foods and their 
| chemical changes. This commission, 

I Substation, like SOme ° ther P arts ° f 
| That Run the Executive Bureau, is 
| Themselves operated both from the 

| head office and also from the relay 
| stations. The Food Commission sub- 
| stations are automatons; that is they 
| are self-acting and need not wait for 
| orders from the head office. 

The food mill is placed so near to 
[ the capitol building that it is under 
| the direct orders of the head office 
| while all other matters relating to 
| foods are managed by the relay sta- 
| tions with whose work the superior 
| office never interferes. 

The Telegraph Commission is also 
| under both the superior and the in- 
| ferior offices while the telephone 
| system is managed by the head office 
| alone. 

I wish you could see all the won¬ 


ders of the ventilation experts. This 
commission may not use the observa¬ 
tory nor the telephone system, but it 
has expert help from the scouts and 
testers as to odors in the air and as 
to its temperature and moisture. 

Exchanging This commission man- 
Bad Air ages the bringing in of 
for Good air an( j its passage 

through the air pipes to the oxida¬ 
tion laboratory. It also runs the 
laboratory, provides a way for oxi¬ 
dizing the foods and for casting out 
impure air from the community and 
brings bad air from every individual 
back to the oxidation laboratory to 
be expelled from the community. 

The supreme authority of the 
commune is vested in the Intelli¬ 
gence Bureau from which all new 
ideas come and to which one must 

The Eureau a PP J y if he wishes a 
That Thinks reason for any line of 
for All action. This most logical 

body governs the intellectual life of 
the whole community. 

A large number of the workers of 
the commune do very little if any 
thinking for themselves for they are 
so in the habit of depending upon 
the Intelligence Bureau to do their 
thinking for them. This may be one 
reason for the harmony which pre¬ 
vails in the community. 

In the Great Picture Gallery 

Would you like to look into the 
photograph gallery and see the ex¬ 
perts take pictures? You have no 
doubt seen many cameras ranging in 
size from the little pocket kodak to 
the fine large camera of the city 
photographer, yet you never saw one 
so small nor yet so perfect as this 
one. 

As you would expect, it is placed 
in the observation station and is 
operated by the Lookout Commis- 


254 


sion. One wonderful thing about 
the camera is its ability to photo¬ 
graph far and near objects; any¬ 
thing, in fact, from the stars in the 
sky to a fly on the table, by a simple 
The Most adjustment of the focus- 

WonderfuJ ing apparatus. Every- 

of Cameras thing beyond twenty 

feet is in focus without adjustment. 
This camera is, in fact, a telescope 
and a stereoscope, as well as a cam¬ 
era. In each half of the stereoscope 
there is one hard lens and one liquid 
lens. It was only when this plan 
was copied that man succeeded in 
making a really good telescope. 

Look out of the window. There is 
a rich green lawn upon which three 
little children are playing, their blue 
dresses and red sweaters making a 
gay spot in the foreground with the 
soft gray of a stucco house for a 
background. Now see the camera 
turned toward this same picture. A 
C 0 i 0r moment only and the 

Photography photograph has been 
Perfected taken, perfect in every 

detail even to the exact colors which 
you noticed from the window. No¬ 
where else has color photography 
been so perfected. In these marvel¬ 
ous communities it has nevertheless 
been done for ages. As soon as the 
picture is taken it is sent to the In¬ 
formation Bureau which puts it in 
the hands of the Interpretation Bu¬ 
reau whose helpers store it in the 
library to be used by the Intelli¬ 
gence Bureau. 

A Piano, a Telephone and Phonograph 
Combined 

These communities have a won¬ 
derful telephone which they had 
perfected long before telephones 
were in use elsewhere. The receiver 
of this telephone is in the head office 
and communicates with the outside 


iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

sounds—the human j 
voice, the songs of birds, the rustle | 
of leaves, the tinkle of bells, shouts i 
for help, cries of distress, and every | 
other imaginable sound,—are taken | 
by the receiver and transmitted by | 
the lines direct to the Information | 
Bureau of the head office, thence to | 
the Interpretation Bureau, thence to | 
the library where the records are | 
filed. These records are in a way I 
similar to the records of a phono- | 
graph and may be brought out and | 
repeated an hour, a week, or a year | 
later. In some respects this sound- j 
reproducing system may also be | 
compared to a piano, as we shall see. j 

What a Pipe Organ! 1 

It is one of the delights of the j 
community to listen to the music of | 
the pipe organ which is built in the | 
capitol. This fine instrument has but | 
two reeds, yet it is so adjusted that it | 
Only Two plays difficult music in | 
Reeds But three octaves. It can re- | 
Such an Organ! p ro duce S OngS with Or | 

without words and can talk better | 
than any talking machine. | 

These Policemen Tend to Business 

Someone has said that the average | 
policeman is “a never present help in | 
time of trouble.” This witty saying, j 
like many others, is more witty than | 
true; for policemen, like firemen, are | 
usually brave, devoted men. In the j 
community we have been talking | 
about all the policemen are brave | 
and devoted—and as clever as they | 
are brave. You might think such | 
well behaved, orderly, busy individ- | 
uals who have neither time nor de- | 
sire to be unruly would therefore | 
need no police. | 

As a matter of fact the members | 
of the community itself never do | 
anything unlawful nor disturb the | 


^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinin a MARVELOUS COMMUNITY 

world. All 




255 




S' 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


peace in any way. The trouble 
always comes from the outside. This 
perfect army of police is made neces- 

No Loch sar y b y the ease with 
But Many which invaders may en- 

‘Pohcemen ter. No locks nor keys 

are used, no bolts nor bars and there 

is always some open door through 

which enemies may slip past the 

inspectors and the guards. 

Attacks by the Enemy 

The community has many en¬ 
emies. These enter and make their 
home there and they multiply so 
rapidly that before the police have 
been notified or have discovered 
their presence, they have done some 
damage to the community. Some¬ 
times they break the mill stones or 
put something into the acid of the 
What laboratory which makes 

These it too strong, then the 

Enemies T)o whole action of the fac¬ 
tory is disturbed. Sometimes they 
dull the lenses of the camera, in¬ 
jure the reeds of the organ or block 
the telegraph or telephone wires. 
When they become very strong they 
may even overcome the police and 
stop the operations of the pump. 

You see there really is great need 
for a competent police. 

When a foreign body pushes it¬ 
self into the community it is sur¬ 
rounded by the police, who, if they 
are strong and well nourished, push 
it out. When other enemies enter 
they are strangled one by one if 
possible, but sometimes they are too 
strong for the police. 

When one part of the community 
is in the hands of the enemy, other 
members come to the rescue. Even 
desperate situations are often saved 
by these helpers, but sometimes the 
enemy is victorious and causes the 
death of the whole community. 


Where This Marvelous Community Is 

You have by this time guessed 
that this marvelous community is 
your own body but you may not 
have guessed that the individuals 
which make up the community are 
the millions of tiny cells that com¬ 
pose the body. In any event it will 
add to your interest to trace the ac¬ 
tivities of the cells, together with 
T)id You their relations to each 
Know You other and to the body, 
Are It? for they are just such 
activities as have been described as 
taking place in the community. That 
the body is really a community of 
cells which specialize, each group in 
its own work, is a scientific fact. 
You will understand physiology 
better than ever before if we go 
back now and retrace the steps in the 
arrangement and management of 
this body community. 

If the community described is 
your body, then the members of your 
family and your friends are some of 
the many other communities. 

The opening into the mill is the 
mouth and the food which comes in 
is inspected by the eyes and tested 
by the taste and smell. These in- 
Whatthe spectors reject it if it is 
Picture not up to the standard 

People Are which they demand of 

the mill. The teeth are the grind¬ 
ing stones of the mill and the tongue 
is the group of muscular workers 
who throw the food from one side of 
the mill to the other. The salivary 
and maxillary glands are the chem¬ 
ical department of the mill which 
manufactures the saliva needed to 
change the starch foods to sugar. If 
the mill-stones (the teeth) are 
broken or wanting in places, the food 
is not properly ground up and it is 
hurried out of the mill before it has 
been properly mixed with saliva. 


*v 


♦♦ 


256 


^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin ^ ^ e l O U S 

You can see for yourself how it 
| hampers the work of the stomach 
| which has neither saliva for starches 
| nor stones for grinding, if the food 
| comes in with the mill work only 

I rah Good partially done. It is 
jf Care o f That therefore very important 
| Lltt1e Mill! that the m ill-stones be 
| brushed once a day and be washed 
| with clean water several times a day, 

1 and that the food should be thor- 


COMMUNITY iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiK 

other, an air-passage, leads to the | 
lungs,—the community “oxidation | 
laboratories.” The lung-cells are | 
the little rooms in which the air is | 
stored to meet the tide of blood. 

The passage leading to this labo- | 
ratory is the trachea, at the opening | 
of which is the larynx —“the pipe j 
organ.” The incoming air is always | 
in position to play upon the reeds or | 
cords of this “organ” of speech. | 


A Peep Into the Pipe Organ 



If you could see through the too of your own head, straight down to your vocal cords, while 
you are reading this aloud, you would see them as they are shown in the center picture. Notice how 
much closer they come together than in the first picture. 

Those two strips at the side are called “false” cords. Although they look like vocal cords, 
they are not used in speaking. 

The air coming up through the windpipe plays upon the edges of the cords much as you play 
upon the edge of a grass blade when you “make music” with it, holding it between your hands. 
Held loosely and blown upon softly, it makes a low coarse note; stretching it and blowing harder, 
makes the note higher and sharper, as you know. 

When Mother sings baby to sleep the cords are stretched until they cover the center of the pipe, 
as you see in the third picture. She sings to the baby softly. If she sings high notes, she forces the 
air through the cords rapidly. 


oughly chewed and mixed with sa¬ 
liva and not with cold water. Cold 
water should be taken when there is 
no food in the mouth and it will 
then be a help to the stomach. Water 
may be held in the mouth for three 
or more minutes after each meal to 
dissolve out from between the teeth 
any substances which might injure 
them. 

The “Oxidation Laboratories” 

The throat is the central receiving 
room from which run the two pas¬ 
sages which we noticed. One of the 
passages used solely for food goes 
direct to the stomach while the 


There are many reeds in an ordi- | 
nary church organ, while the human | 
voice, with all its possibilities for | 
song and speech, has but two cords. j 
The trachea is not a solid tube, but, j 
like every part and organ of the | 
body, is composed of hundreds of | 
cells. This long tube divides, send- j 
ing one branch to each lung, and | 
these branches divide and sub- | 
divide until they resemble the twigs j 
of a tree. 

Do you remember when we vis- | 
ited the oxidation laboratories that | 
we saw the food pumped into the | 
factory to be purified? That food | 
was the turbid blood coming from j 


♦v 


♦V 


257 





$iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!in PICTURED KNOWLEDGE BHiraiiiiiiiiiraiiimiiiiiuiiiiuiiuiiiiinimuimiiiiHiiiuraniniiHuiiiiinnH^ 


= t< 


the right chamber of the heart— 
“the pump”—where the oxygen of 
the air mixed with the blood and 

A Little Trif, clarified it, giving it the 
for bright red color. Then 

Fresh Air ft was ser ft b ac k; to the 

left side of the heart. This short 
circulation of the blood from the 
right side of the heart to the lungs, 
and back to the heart, is called the 
pulmonary or lung circulation. It is 
just a little trip the blood takes to 
get fresh air. 

Following the Blood Through the Body 

When the blood leaves the left 
side of the heart it is beginning its 
work of carrying liquid food 
through the arteries to every mem¬ 
ber of the body-community, to 
every cell. It starts on this journey 
by way of the big artery called the 
aorta which sends out smaller 
branches which divide again and 
again until the smallest group is 
reached. These groups take such 
nourishment as they need out of the 
blood and give back carbon dioxide 
and other waste materials. This 
blood-stream, now mixed with the 
sewage” from the cells, can no 
longer flow in the arteries which 
carry only pure blood. It therefore 
enters the venous system by way of 
minute capillaries (hair-like tubes) 
which gather up the tide from all 
the cells and empty it into larger 
and larger pipes until it reaches the 
Why the large vein, the vena 
Heart Has cava, which enters the 
Two Sides right side of the heart. 

It is very clear now why the heart- 
pump must have two sides. There 
must be a way to keep the pure and 
impure blood separated. This im¬ 
pure blood then makes the pulmo¬ 
nary trip, leaves the sewage in the 
lungs to be breathed out, takes up 


oxygen, and is ready once more to 
feed the hungry cells. 

The Pure Food Delivery System 

Just take a trip with your finger 
through the picture on the opposite 
page. Begin at the bottom. You 
notice that when it leaves the intes¬ 
tines the blood flows on through the 
tubes of the bile factory. There 
some of the blood is made into bile, 
some taken out as waste, and the 
rest is emptied, with used blood, 
into the right side of the town pump. 
(It’s on the left side as you look at 
the picture). It then passes into the 
lower chamber.- From there it is 
pumped to the lungs. The iron pig¬ 
ment in the blood attracts the oxy¬ 
gen of the air as a magnet attracts 
iron. The lungs are a network of 
thin walls and the oxygen is at¬ 
tracted right through them into the 
red corpuscles of the blood. Each 
corpuscle, like a car in a freight 
train, carries pigment and waste 
(carbon dioxide). As the corpuscles 
pass along they unload the carbon 
dioxide right through the wall; and 
back through the wall comes the 
oxygen and “gets aboard.” 

The red corpuscles, having un¬ 
loaded their carbon and taken on 
oxygen, are now ready for the re¬ 
turn trip. As they pass along the 
various tissues of the body the tis¬ 
sues help themselves to whatever 
food they need, together with a sup¬ 
ply of oxygen. This oxygen is used 
to burn food for fuel to warm the 
body and to supply heat to the mus¬ 
cles for their work. 

The muscles are like engines and 
they have to have heat to make them 
go, just as a steam engine does. Why 
do you run or slap your arms to get 
warm on a cold day? Because this 
exercise of the muscles generates 


iiiiuiuiiiiiiiiujiJiuijiiiiJjiiJiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiuiiiiiiiiniiiiiijiiiiuiiiiiiiH 



The Pure Food Delivery System 




>UMP VAUVtS 


STOMACH 

KITCHEN 




We have headed this picture “The Pure Food Delivery System,” because it shows just how the 
food of the community is purified and then delivered to the different members according to their 
needs. 

Notice here that the community kitchen, called the stomach, is shown in its natural position. 
It would be necessary to turn the bottom of the kitchen up, as it is in the following picture, in order 
to see the pancreatic juice factory. 


259 



































































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE i 


*♦: 


the extra heat they need to overcome 
the cold. And if you get very cold 
and don’t do anything about it the 
muscles will just begin exercising 
themselves! That is to say, they 
shiver. 

The reason for the word “circula¬ 
tion”- is now explained. The blood 
circulates—makes the circuit from 
the heart—through the arteries to 
the venous capillaries and veins 
back to the heart with never a break 
in the circuit. 

One reason why we should drink 
a plentiful supply of pure water is 
that water keeps the food in a liquid 
condition—thin enough to flow in a 
stream through the blood vessels. 
Another reason is that it keeps the 
tissues moist and the glands active. 
The chemical laboratories all de¬ 
pend upon water for their work. 


A Pump That Works Itself 


The wonderful pumping station— 
the heart—has been studied by thou¬ 
sands of scientific men for a long 
What time but still nobody 

Makes the knows how it manages 
Heart Go? to make itself go. To be 

sure we know that the heart con¬ 
tracts and expands, and that this 
sends out the blood, but that does 
not explain how. The heart of the 
chick in the egg begins to beat a 
few hours after the mother hen first 
warms the egg, but how or why is 
the greatest mystery. 


How the Town Pump Pumps 

Don’t look much like valentine 
I hearts, do they—the first four pic- 
| tures on the opposite page? But 
| how about the last two? At the end 
| of the stroke, you see, the lower part 
| of the heart begins to come to a 
| point, much like that of the conven- 
| tionalized heart the artists put in 


valentines. This change in the § 
shape of the lower part of the heart | 
is due to the fact that it is this part | 
of the heart only that does the | 
pumping. Notice how much thicker | 
the lower part is than the upper. It | 
needs this extra muscle to do its | 
work. The partition wall is also | 
made thick as it does part of the | 
pumping. The right ventricle is | 
shown larger and the partition thin- | 
ner than they are in reality in order | 
to give more space in which to show | 
the action of the valves. In the pic- | 
ture on page 261 you will see the | 
exact shape and thickness of the § 
walls of the ventricles. 1 


A Round Trip Every Fifteen Seconds 

The heart sends the blood out 
with such force that it not only 
makes the circuit through all parts 
of the body, but comes back into the 
pump purified and ready to start 
over again all as a result of this 
strong outgoing stroke. 

And how long do you suppose the 
blood takes to make this round trip! 
Fifteen seconds! Each pulsation 
sends the stream a little further, on 
through the body and on up and up 
until it pours in at the top of the 
heart again, thus keeping the blood 
going in its constant current and 
the veins and arteries always full. 


Why the Blood Doesn’t Get Mixed Up 

But how can the heart handle im¬ 
pure and pure blood at the same 
time without getting them all mixed 
up? It’s on account of the valves 
and that partition that divides the 
The Work heart into “rights and 
ofthe lefts.” Notice how the 

Vahes valves open to let the 

blood pass into the heart on its way 
to the lungs when the heart expands, 
as in the first picture, and then how 












♦♦ 


♦<* 


26a 







Vena Cava 


Pulmonary 


Wide Open 


\Valves 

Entirely 


END OF STROKE, LOWER CHAMBERS ALMOST EMPTY 


These are pictures of the town pump—the heart—on a busy day. And it’s always a busy day 
with the heart, as you know No days off for the little town pump! Beat, beat, beat—pump, pump, 
pump—it goes night and day, day and night, all our lives. Do you know what happens to this busy, 
faithful little heart when a boy smokes cigarettes? It’s as if he whipped it to make it go faster. 
The poison of the cigarettes paralyzes certain nerves which control the heart as a governor controls 
an engine. Then the heart goes to beating a great deal faster than it ought, and after awhile, if 
this keeps on, it breaks down entirely. 

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN 


How the Town Pump Pumps 


261 




giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiliiilillilililliiili PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiilillliiilliiiilllliil^ 


tJi 



these valves shut as the heart con¬ 
tracts to pump the impure blood into 
the lungs and the pure blood 
through the arteries into the body. 

How to Make a Heart Valve 

Now, a little more about these 
valves. Punch a hole through a 
piece of paper with your lead pencil. 
Don’t the little tongues hanging 

How the Pump Chambers 


RIGH r 
VENTR'CLE 


VENTRICLE 

/ 


VENTRICLE 


RIGHT 

VENTRICLE 


how important it is that the air 
should be pure and contain the right 
amount of oxygen? When the air 
goes to the lungs to meet the blood 
.. and does not contain 

.Von t *ii 

Breathe enough oxygen, it allows 

Dirty Air the blood to go circling 
back to the heart without having 
been properly purified. No wonder 
the head aches and the cheeks burn 

when one sits in an 
unventilated room 
filled with once or 
twice used air full 
of many peoples’ 
waste carbon diox¬ 
ide. That is just 
as dirty as the 
water in which 
several people 
have washed. 


Work 


HEART WHEN FULL 


WHEN CONTRACTED, EMPTY 


Don’t Overwork 


Here you are looking down on the heart from above, with the upper 
part lifted off. The picture shows the relative thickness of the walls, the 
shape of the ventricles, how they look when they are expanded to receive 
the incoming blood and when contracted to send it out. 

Notice how the inside of the walls are folded or “puckered up” by the 
outgoing stroke. The little dots in the walls are the ends of the vertical 
muscles that pull the top and bottom of the heart slightly toward each 
other, while the horizontal muscles that surround the heart (shown by the 
curved lines) pull it together from the sides. .It is the horizontal muscles 
that do the heaviest work. 


down from the hole on the opposite 
side look like the open valves in the 
first two cross-section pictures? 
Press these paper tongues with your 
finger. They go back into place and 
fill up the hole. The heart valves 
work in the same way. The blood 
itself pushes open the door and 
comes in; then when the heart con¬ 
tracts the blood presses against these 
valves from the under side and 
keeps them closed. The little things 
under the valves that look like the 
ropes of a parachute, hold them from 
being forced back too far. 

Be Careful About Your Air 

When you were in one of the oxi¬ 
dation laboratories did you notice 


the Stomach 
Factory 

Let us go back | 

to the central re- | 

ceiving room, or | 
throat, and instead | 

of leaving it by the air passage let | 

us follow the food in its passage | 

through the oesophagus into the | 
stomach. The cells of the stomach j 
lining create the gastric juice which | 
acts upon proteins, such as lean | 
meat, eggs, bread, gluten, cheese, | 
etc., and besides that it tosses and | 
churns the food for two hours or | 
more until it is digested and mixed, j 
If you have taken some water the j 
work of the stomach is aided be- | 
cause the liquid mass mixes better | 
than the pasty one which left the | 
mouth. If the food has not been J 
well ground up in the mouth the | 
stomach has three times as much work I 
to do as it ought to have. Some poor | 
overworked stomachs have to do all I 


262 






















FATS 


tdump 




DIGEST! 

FOOD 


Hi 


Ak ''K W^ W'W''^ 
fOIJt-Jt.. LT_'L_1_A.. 




• > ! ' : \ 




KITCHEN 


SECONDl \ 

rn' TC ^ HEN ‘ ' 

(Duodenum) 


THE 

STOMACH 

KITCHEN 


Lont* passage lined with Jittle Finders that sort out the Food 


Here we are following some food through the community kitchens—an egg, a piece of lean meat, 
some starch, potato and a slice of bread. The egg and the meat are shown just as they come to the 
“mill,” unground, although of course we grind everything that comes into the “mill.” The digestion of 
foods of this kind does not begin in the mouth, but a large part of the bread and potato has begun to 
digest. The other food, after being acted upon in the first kitchen below, will be passed to the sec¬ 
ond kitchen, where the bile and pancreatic juice completes its digestion. As this food passes along that 
tube the little fingers in its walls sort out what the community can use, the waste going into the sewer. 


8 


. llllllllillllllillllllllllllllll||||||| ! | l | i | *fhiM 

A Trip Through the Food Factories I 


PROTEIDS 


STARCH 


1 


Um$ I 
da>h 
passage 
to the 
Kitcbert 


LUNQ 

BELLOWS 


LUNG 

BELLOWS 


", ssw 


' 


■ ¥ i 
r L . _ . v-d 










263 






























































&IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINIIIINIIIIIIIIH PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iniaiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiililniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiimiliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiraiiiiniiii^ 


"Oh, Do 
Give JTe 
a Rest!" 


the grinding that lazy boys and girls 
have neglected to do and then, in¬ 
stead of having mercy on the tired 
stomach, the ungrateful children 
keep eating every little 
while so that the stom¬ 
ach has no time at all to 
rest. It takes at least two hours 
to digest food and if one eats 
every two hours it keeps his stomach 
working constantly and keeps the 
chemical laboratories busy over¬ 
time, too. Simple foods are far bet¬ 
ter than rich ones and are digested 
in a shorter time. 


The Work in the Laboratories 

After the food leaves the stomach 
and just as it enters the small intes¬ 
tine, it receives the juices from the 
“near-by laboratories’’ — the pan¬ 
creas and liver. The pancreatic juice 
assisted by the bile from the liver 
makes very important changes in the 
food, which then passes along the 
small intestine. 

The walls of the intestine have 
innumerable little finger-like things, 
called villi, protruding into the 
intestine tube. By the side of 
each villus is a gland 
that secretes the fluids, 
or chemicals, needed to 
change the starches, break down the 
sugars and digest the fats. 

When this has been done, or 
while it is being done, the food 
passes along the long cylinder or 
tube, and soaks into the villi. These 
villi have porous walls through 
which the food passes into tiny tubes 
which meet other tubes and form 
larger and larger ones, until they 
enter the large portal vein, which 
carries it to the liver. From the 
liver it goes to the right side of the 
heart and then the circulation 
begins. 


Where the 
Chemicals 
Come From 


It is a curious fact that the fats do | 
not go on this journey with the | 
other foods, but go into tubes called | 
lacteals, which empty into tubes go- j 
ing to the vena cava instead of to | 
the liver. | 

What could be more wonderful | 
than the way in which this stream of | 
food is emptied into different tubes, | 
and used in different ways? 

The Sewage System 

The waste from this food mass | 
(the waste from the stomach and in- | 
testine factories), together with the | 
undigested food, is not taken up at j 
all. Fancy those clever cells know- | 
ing enough to reject such things! j 
All seeds and fruit skins; cellulose | 
How Do skins, seeds from vege- j 
These Little tables, and connective 1 
Cells Know? tissue from meat with | 

the undigested food pass by the villi, | 
are not even noticed by the lacteals, | 
are pushed further and further until | 
they leave the small intestine and | 
enter the large intestine, which is | 
nothing more nor less than a big | 
sewer pipe which carries this refuse | 
out of the body. 

There is another sewer system | 
which carries off the personal waste | 
of each cell or group of cells. As | 
the cells—the community individuals | 
—do their work, they wear out and | 
die, forming uric acid. The blood, | 
when it gives up its oxygen for the 1 
cells to use, takes back the carbon | 
dioxide which they cannot use. | 
These waste substances are taken up | 
by the vein capillaries and emptied j 
into the veins which carry it to the | 
lungs and kidneys. These are the ] 
Sorting Stations of the community. | 
The lungs sort out the carbon diox- | 
ide and expel it in breath through | 
the bronchial tubes, the nose and | 
the mouth. 




K 


264 


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#,♦ 


A MARVELOUS 

The kidneys sort out the uric acid 
and send it through tubes to the 
bladder which holds it until it is 
full, then empties it into a special 
sewer pipe which carries it out of 
the body. 

The Brain and Its “Bureaus” 

The story of the community gov¬ 
ernment with its Bureaus and Com¬ 
missions is so easily recognized as 
the brain and its functions that it 
needs little explanation. 

All information which reaches the 
brain from outside the body must 
come to it through the senses, the 
messages being carried by the nerves 
of sight, touch, taste and smell 
which constitute the telegraph sys¬ 
tem, or by the nerves of hearing 
which constitute the telephone sys¬ 
tem. (You see by the diagram of 
brain and nerves that there are dif¬ 
ferent parts or offices for different 
activities of the brain.) 

The part of the brain which re¬ 
ceives the information cannot pass 
judgment on it nor give orders as to 
its use. Those things are done by 
other parts of the forebrain which 
interpret and execute. 

The records in the library are the 
memories of sights, sounds, smells, 
taste and touch. 

Stop a minute to think how won¬ 
derful it is that your eyes take pic¬ 
tures more accurately than the best 
camera can do and takes them in 
color, too; that the brain makes a 
efi e record of every one of 

Wonders of those pictures so that 
the Bram y 0 u can think back 

whenever you want to; that the ear 
catches sounds so delicate that the 
telephone could not transmit them 
and is able also to send a record of 
them to the brain for future refer- 


COMMUNITY 

Now, as we shall see by a study 1 
of the picture on the opposite page, | 
the ear itself may be compared to a 1 
piano in the way in which it re- | 
sponds to sound waves; or we may i 
compare it to a telephone both in | 
its response to sound waves and in i 
the fact that these sound waves are | 
carried to the brain over the “nerve | 
wires.” 1 


ence. 


The Ear Piano and Its Piano-Player 

How marvelously they are de¬ 
signed and put together, these ear 
pianos of ours! They would be 
wonderful enough if they really 
were made “giant size” only, and 
only giants had them, but isn’t it 
the most wonderful thing of all that 
we ourselves have them, one in each 
ear, and they aren’t any bigger than 
the end of your little finger? 

Think of it! Not only the thou¬ 
sands of strings packed away in that 
little winding shell, but the shell it¬ 
self, the drum, the hammer, the an¬ 
vil, the two fulcrums, and the stir¬ 
rup, occupy a space in the ear not 
any larger than the last two joints 
of your little finger; not only 

Marvelous ta ken care of in such a 
Little little space, but fitted to- 

Machmes gether and with plenty 

of room in which to do their mar¬ 
velous work. Hard to believe, isn’t 
it? But there is no doubt about it. 
The structure of the human ear is 
one of the greatest wonders that 
the microscope reveals. 

The Two Theories about Sound 
Transmission 

Yet, with all the study and skill 
that have been applied to the cords 
in the little shell, learned men are 
not sure, in all respects, as to how 
they work. One theory, that of 
Helmholtz, the great German phil- 


& 


265 






A Look Into Headquarters 



This picture shows how all movements and functions of the body are controlled* from the head. 
All orders start from the main office. When we decide to go somewhere, for example, this part of 
the brain tells the legs to move. The order is passed on to the assistant, who sees to it that we go 
on walking until the “chief” tells us to stop. The figure in front of him looks after the work that 
goes on without our thinking—such as the beating of the heart—and actions that we can control 
somewhat, such as the motion of the lung bellows. You can easily find the memory files, the picture 
show, ventilator, and the “telegraph wires” that govern other parts of the body. 

Illllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!^ 






















































the ear 
own 


, ANVIL. 
\ uncos) 


PIANO OF 
%TH£ EAR 


A MARVELOUS COMMUNITY 


♦ ♦ 


osopher and scientist, was that each 
of the cords reproduces a different 
sound, and it is this theory that we 
have illustrated. It is also known 
as the “harp theory.” Another and 
later theory is that the cords, all be- 


to a piano to make it play. You give 
this ear piano-player a tune and it 
begins playing it, the vibrations run¬ 
ning like unseen fingers over thou¬ 
sands of little cords—down one 
music hall, up the other. 


The Little Pianos in Our Ears 


Wmvmt 


1 mmm#. 




the the 

HAMMER f, 

(Malleus) bunts) 

\ THE { ! J. 


£ strinj in Ear 
vibrating 
in Unison 


Tube for \ 

equalizing air ~ 

pressure on drum \ 

(Eustachian) % 




Did you know that we have little pianos in our ears? They make music for us very much as 
do the strings of a piano. In the center of the picture you see the E string vibrating to make the 
note E. You notice the string on the left responds to this vibration because the two wires are 
tuned in unison. These same sound waves pass into the ear and set the “E string’' in the ear to 
vibrating. 

Notice there is a tube leading from the ear down into the mouth. The air in this tube, com¬ 
ing from the outside just as does the air that conveys the sound into the ear, has the same pressure 
and so makes the pressure on both sides of the drum equal and permits it to vibrate in such a way 
as to convey a “true report” of the sounds that strike it. If the air on either side of the drum 
exerted a greater pressure than that on the other, the drum would bend but would not vibrate 
so freely. 

Do you know that if it weren’t for those three little loops, called the labyrinth, you would fall 
down every time you stood up? The labyrinth is for the purpose of helping us to keep our balance. 
Those little loops are tubes filled with water, and as our bodies are inclined forward^ or backward 
or sidewise, the position of the water tells the brain which way we are tipping. It works very much 
on the principle of the spirit level used by carpenter. 


| ing attached to each other, act as 
| one membrane and carry sounds as 
| does the diaphragm in a telephone 
| or a Victrola. 

How the Piano Is Played 

If we look at the cords from the 
| piano standpoint then that part of 
| the ear from the drum to the stirrup 
| may be said to do the work of a 
| piano-player—the kind you attach 

99 


The lower right-hand picture on 
the following page shows how the 
piano is divided into two compart¬ 
ments. These two compartments are 
filled with water, which carries the 
sound waves—in the direction shown 
by the arrows—down one hall and 
back through the other. But water 
doesn’t give, you can’t compress it 
as you can the air, so there is a 
membrane at the beginning of the 




267 


















SHORT FINE STRINGS 


NERVE WIRES 
TO HEADQUARTERS 


llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllllll!!!!imiinillllllH 

The Kar Piano and Its Piano-Player 


This is how the inside of your ear would look, if you had an ear as big as a giant’s. It shows 
the inside of the ear piano with the “private wires” from each cord to the head offices in the brain 
where the information, music and other forms of sound, are received and acted upon by the executive 
staff for the instruction or amusement of the community. 

Illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 


the hammer 

(Afa/leu s) 


THE DRUM 

where Air Vibrat 
Are Receivec 


Membrane Where 
Vibrations Enter' 
Piano 


Membrane Where 
Vibrations End"' 


How Sound Waves are Made to Pass 
Over all the Strings 


268 




























^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiL a MARVELOUS 

| first hall and at the end of the sec- 
| ond. One membrane bulges out 
| when the other bulges in, and bulges 
| in when the other bulges out; other- 
| wise the sound waves would not 
| pass through the water—the water 
| would just stand solid as it does in a 
| full bottle when you try to drive the 
| cork in further. 

When a sound strikes the ear 
| drum it sets it vibrating—shaking 
| back and forth very fast. This sets 
| the hammer going; but the ear ham- 

I The Hammer. mer, instead of pound- 
1 Anvil and ing on the anvil, swings 

| Stirrup it back and forth by that 

| hinge. Then the anvil, fastened as 
| you see by another hinge to the stir- 
| rup, makes the stirrup vibrate 
| against the upper of the two mem- 
| branes of the ear piano. 

Each of the cords in the piano is 
| of a different length, and as the 
| sound waves travel through the 
| water, each, according to one theory, 

| finds the string of just the right 
| length to vibrate for that sound. 

The strings of a piano and the 
| pipes of a pipe organ work in the 
| same way—the shorter and smaller 
| strings and pipes making the higher, 

| finer notes and the longer strings 
| and pipes the lower, coarser notes. 

| In the ear the shorter strings vibrate 
| rapidly in response to the more 
| rapid vibrations of sound and the 
| longer strings vibrate slowly in re- 
| sponse to the slower vibration made 
| by the coarser sounds. 

How and Why Sound Beats Are 
Magnified 

The lower left-hand picture shows 
I how the hammer and anvil lever 
1 bones increase the force of sound 
1 vibrations so that they will be sure 
| to set the cords going; or the dia- 
1 phragm, if you take the newer 


COMMUNITY iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'iiiuiiiiitj 

theory. You see, these levers are j 
attached to each other at the top, | 
and the anvil lever has a shorter | 
arm than the hammer lever. The | 
result is, as you will understand | 
better when you study physics, that | 
the arm of the anvil lever moves | 
over a shorter space for a given vi- | 
bration than the arm of the hammer | 
lever and so causes a vibration to g 
strike the inner membrane harder | 
for a given sound than it does the | 
ear drum itself. This is necessary be- j 
cause the water in the “piano” does | 
not respond to vibrations as easily j 
as the air. j 

Differences in the Art of Hearing 

While all ears are made alike, of | 
course, they differ greatly in their | 
capacity for telling differences in | 
sound. The sensitive, trained ear of | 
the musician, for example, can tell j 
fine shadings and differences in mus- | 
ical notes that the ordinary ear can- | 
not distinguish at all. | 

And there is “sound deafness” j 
as well as color blindness; there are j 
certain sounds that some people ei- j 
ther can’t hear or can’t make out j 

And There Is among other sounds; | 
“Sound just as there are certain | 

Deafness colors which color-blind | 
people can’t tell from others. There | 
are people, you know, who can’t tell | 
blue from green, and others to whom | 
red looks the same as yellow. 

The Insect’s Private World of Sound 

Do you know that insects, al- | 
though their hearing machinery is | 
very different from ours, can hear a | 
whole world of sounds that the hu- | 
man ear can’t hear at all? Some of | 
them hear notes four octaves higher | 
than the human ear can hear. 

As the squirrel said to the moun¬ 
tain, “If I can’t carry a forest on 



269 



^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii piCTURED KNOWLEDGE iuuiiiiuiiiiim 


| my back, neither can you crack a 
| nut!” 

The cells which compose the po- 
| lice force are the white blood cor- 
| puscles. You have often heard of 
| the red blood corpuscles which are 
| like little boatloads of oxygen float- 
| ing along in the food-stream of 
| blood, but you have not heard so 
| much of the white corpuscles. These 
| white cells instead of uniting in 
| groups as most of the cells do, float 
| singly in the blood stream. This 
| arrangement gives them a great ad- 
| vantage as police officers for each 
| one can change his form to suit his 
| need. When occasion requires, these 
| corpuscles can make themselves so 
| thin that they can push through the 
| walls of the blood vessels and attack 
| the disease germs which have en- 
| tered the body. 


The “Policemen” Make An Arrest 

And how do you suppose one of 
these little policemen arrests a cul¬ 
prit? He simply swallows him! 

Swallowing That ' 1S > Un!eSS the gUll- 

Their ty party is too large for 

Prisoners him. In that case, he 

calls on other policemen—other 
white corpuscles and together they 
all manage to swallow him. 

When one is in a healthy condi¬ 
tion his blood contains a greaf num¬ 
ber of these police-power corpuscles 
which eat up the disease germs as 
fast as they enter and one is almost 
immune from disease, but if the sys¬ 
tem is poorly nourished or run down 
nervously, the white corpuscles be¬ 
come few in number or weak in ac¬ 
tion and the person “comes down” 
with or “catches” something. 

If a sliver or thorn finds its way 
into the flesh, the police cells sur¬ 
round it and die in their furious 
attack upon it; their dead bodies 


gii 


form pus and the foreign body is | 

pushed out. Then we say it “festered j 

and came out.” These policemen j 

Patriots sacrificed their lives for | 

That T)ie for the good of the body j 
Country commun ; ty . j 

The relay stations are a little more | 
difficult to understand. Situated at | 
intervals along the spinal cord, | 
which runs from the brain to the | 
end of the back bone, are groups of | 
nerve cells which receive messages | 
from different parts of the body and | 
send them on to the brain; but after | 
anything has been done many times | 
it becomes unnecessary to send the | 
message to the brain, for these relay j 
stations can do it “automatically”; | 
that is, we are not conscious of the | 
ordering of the details of the opera- | 
tion. For example, we decide to go | 
for a walk, start in the right direc- | 
tion and then think of something | 
else while the steps are taken, auto- | 
matically under the direction of the | 
relay station. The big brain in the | 

How Hahits head, the executive of- g 
Are fice, has taught the little | 

Formed brains at these relay | 

stations, how to walk, and now they | 
can do it themselves, just as mother | 
taught you how to dress yourself. | 
Now you can do it and she doesn’t | 
need to take time from her other j 
work to help you any more. 

To be able to trust so many things j 
like eating, walking and mechanical j 
work to these relay stations relieves | 
the mind greatly and leaves it free | 
for other work. 


Little Brains That Never Forget 

You see, also, how very important 1 
it is not to do things that ought not | 
to be done, or do right things a | 
wrong way, for your relay stations | 
will form habits that it will be hard j 
for you to change. 

... 


270 


^iiiiiiiiiiiiiHhtuiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin ^ MARVELOUS 

There is also another kind of re- 
| lay stations which we spoke of in the 
| community as automatic stations. 

| These self-governing ganglia regu- 
| late the heart action, the lung and 
| stomach activities and all other 
| functions that we do not consciously 
| govern. It would never do for a 
| forgetful child or a busy man or 
| woman to be responsible for every 
| heart beat, every expansion of the 
1 lungs, every contraction of the stom- 
| ach-wall. These important functions 
| are trusted only to such nerve gan- 
| glia as can give their whole time and 
| attention to that one thing and which 
| have not the power to forget. 

How the Whole Community Moves 

The mysterious nomadic life of 
| the community and its remarkable 
| way of moving off with all its mills, 

| factories and telegraph systems is 
[ very simple now that you know you 
| are yourself the community. 

It would be very inconvenient if 
| we had to leave any of these impor- 
| tant things when we moved and 
| quite as inconvenient if, like an old 
I ovster, we could not move at all. 

The trained cells of the leg mus- 
| cles, bones, cords and ligaments 
| form the army of expert movers. 

| When you wish to go anywhere you 
| “will” to do it, that is, you send an 
1 order from the executive office of 


COMMUNITY iiiiiiiuiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitJ 

the brain over the telegraph wires or | 
nerves, to tell the muscles to move j 
your body. These movers (unless | 
they are sick) are always ready to | 
do your bidding. You know how j 
quickly you can move your com- | 
munity to a ball game or a fire. It | 
sometimes takes longer to move that | 
same community toward a lawn | 
mower or a broom. That is because j 
in the first instance the community | 
itself wishes to move, while in the i 
second case it is impelled to move | 
by the wish of some other stronger, | 
or perhaps wiser community. 

When you think of the skill it J 
takes to originate a camera, or de- | 
vise a telephone; to manufacture | 
acids for a particular chemical; or g 
the ability necessary to govern a | 
city, you will appreciate the marvel | 
of the human body in which groups | 
of cells carry on all of these proc- | 
esses and many others. Here groups | 
of cells specialize and become expert | 
each in its own particular kind of | 
work and are able to do their work | 
better than man himself has ever | 
been able to do it. Surely the au- | 
thor and creator of this marvelous | 
community must have all knowl- | 
edge, all wisdom and all power and | 
whatever man does in mechanics and | 
arts or in community life is but a | 
feeble imitation of what has already j 
been done in the human body. 


EDITOR’S NOTE 

The illustrations form so important a part of this unique treatment 
of a difficult school subject that it is deemed proper to call attention to 
the fact that they were made under the direct supervision of Dr. Win¬ 
field Scott Hall, M. D. (Leipsic), Ph.D.; Professor of Physiology, North¬ 
western University Medical School; Dean of the Medical Faculty and 
author of a well-known series of school and college text books in 
Physiology. 


... ...... 


271 






LESSONS AT HOME AND SCHOOL 


ARITHMETIC 


Practical Arithmetic and 
Business Helps 


It Was All About Fractions and It Made Them Very Plain and Interesting to Johnny 


T HE Mathews children—Johnny, 

Grace and Polly—trooped into 
the dining-room for dinner. It was 
Wednesday noon and Johnny’s mind 
was still a jumble of figures from 
the day’s Arithmetic recitation at 
school. 

“I can’t understand those old frac¬ 
tions,” he burst out, disgustedly. 
rpr ri t “Why, the clock will tell 

v e °ai . you all about fractions,” 

r 7 . said bather, after filling up 

i VCLCtlOYlS . i < . 11 « 

the plates all around. 
“What time is it now?” 

“Quarter past twelve,” cried all of the 
children at once, for though the girls, 
who were older than Johnny, had left 
fractions behind them on the road of 
knowledge, they were still interested in 
the subject. 


“What do you mean when you say 
a ‘quarter’?” 

“Why, I mean that the minute hand 
has gone one quarter of the way around 
the face,” said Johnny after a moment’s 
thought. 

The Clock’s Picture of a “Quarter” 

“It has taken the clock hands fifteen 
minutes to travel that distance, which is 
\ of the clock’s face. That space, when 
marked off by the minute hand, means 

How the Clock i . of an hour. When the 
Slices Uj> minute hand gets to VI 

the Fractions w h at l? art * of the distance 
will it have traveled? 
One-half of the clock’s face or 
in terms of minutes, and when it gets 
to IX, f or 




—1 

JOURHAL 

_ l 


272 









































































|:iiiiiiiiiiiii!ii]iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniii.. PRACTICAL ARITHMETIC ....iiiiiiiiiiiiii*: 


“Oh, I see!” said Johnny. “One-fourth 
of the clock’s face is the same as of it, 
2 as I®, f as and so on.” 

“Exactly,” said his father. “The hands 
and the minute marks on the clock cut 
up big fractions into little fractions, just 
as Mother’s knife cuts up the pie, doesn’t 
it? Now, starting at twelve o’clock, what 
part of its journey around the clock’s face 
has the hour hand traveled by one o’clock?” 



Then Johnny Tack¬ 
led the Twelfths 

Johnny thought a 
moment, then said, 
“Well, there are 
twelve of those 
spaces, like the one 
between XII and I, 
so it must have gone 
tS of the distance.” 

“Right,” said his father. “Now, what 
part of a day is that fa that the hour hand 
travels?” Johnny started to say fa of a 
day, then remembered that there are 24 
hours in a day and that the 12 spaces on 
the clock’s face represent one hour for 
the hour hand and five minutes for the 
minute hand. One hour was certainly 
fa of a day, he thought, but how could 
tV and fa be the same. Then he re¬ 
membered that the hour hand goes twice 
around the face of the clock between 
twelve o’clock this noon and noon tomor¬ 
row, so that fa of the clock’s face, when 
crossed by the hour hand, means fa of a 
day because there are 2 12’s in 24. 

But This One Stumped Him 

His father next asked him what part of 
the whole day the distance between XII 
and I is, when traveled by the minute 
hand. That was a poser! Grace, the oldest 
of the children, thought she could explain 
it, and, with the aid of a pencil and paper, 
she did. 

“That space represents five minutes, or 
g 5 o of the clock’s face, doesn’t it? But 
there are 12 5’s in 60 so -^o of the clock’s 
face is also fa of it. The minute hand 
has to cross that space how many times 
in 24 hours? It goes all the way around 
once every hour, so in a day it would 
cross that space 24 times. Then, in mak¬ 
ing the fa of one trip, it crosses 5 of the 
c . ^ 60 minute divisions—it makes 

Sister race Q f B u t one whole 

p t e trip of the minute hand is 

escue only fa of the distance it 

travels in a day because it travels 24 times 
around the clock’s face in 24 hours, and g 5 o 
of one trip is 60 of fa of the distance 
it travels in a day. In Arithmetic 
picture language, that is ^ 5 <j X fa=jfan 


of the distance it' travels; jfao means g 
that the minute hand has covered 5 of 1 
the 1440 spaces that it crosses in a day, 1 
but we can say that in a simpler way i 
because there are 288 5’s in 1440; jfao 1 
of the distance traveled is also s fg- of § 
it, just as you said that of the clock’s 1 
face was \ of it.” | 

And then Johnny understood. 

Taking out his watch, Father asked § 
Johnny to count the 
minute divisions be¬ 
tween XII and I. 

There were five of 
them of cours e. 

Moving the minute 
hand across three 
of the spaces, 

Father then asked 
Johnny how many 
more minute spaces 
the big hand had to 
go before covering the whole distance be- I 
tween XII and I. Two more, of course, g 
“But each one of those spaces means fa | 
of the clock’s face. Three of those six- 1 
tieths and two of them equal five-sixtieths i 
or five of the minute spaces. Using Arith- g 
metic language 6 3 o + eb=/o-” j 

Good Reasons for Those Rules 

“Oh, now I see what teacher means | 
when she says, ‘In adding fractions, add i 
the numerators, but do not add the de- g 
nominators / Three of the minute spaces g 
and two of them make five in all, but it g 
is g 5 o that they make, not T f 0 , because | 
it is minute spaces we are talking about I 
and they are sixtieths.” I 

“Rights again,” 

Father said, “and 
here is another thing 
you must not for¬ 
get. Suppose it took 
you a quarter of an 
hour to come home 
from school and 
three minutes to get 
your face washed 
for dinner. How 

many minutes in all?” 1 

“Eighteen,” cried Johnny at once. 

“What did you do to get that answer?” I 
asked Father. “You added one quarter g 
of an hour and three minutes and got 18 g 
minutes, or of an hour.” m 

That “Common Denominator” Business 

“Well, one quarter of an hour is 15 min- 1 
utes, and 3 more minutes make 18,” said | 
Johnny. Then, “Oh, I see! I changed g 
the quarter to minutes, and that’s just like g 
changing fractions to common denom- | 
inators as we did in school today. Teach- g 






8 


9 


2 73 












& 


I er says, ' Before adding or subtracting 
| fractions, change them to a common 
1 denominator 

“Yes, you cannot add minutes and hours 
| and get minutes, any more than you can 
| add knives and forks and get forks. You 
I must change the quarter of an hour to 
| minutes—change the \ to sixtieths—be- 
| cause minutes or sixtieths of an hour is 
| your common denominator.” 

| This conversation 
| between Johnny and 
| his father had been 
| so interesting that 
I the others were al- 
| most through with 
| their dinner by this 
I time, while Johnny 
1 had hardly begun. 

| “Finish your din- 
| ner now, or you will 
I be late for school,” 

| said Mother, as the dessert was brought in. 

“Tomorrow’s lesson is awfully hard,” 
| Johnny remarked, between mouthfuls. 
1 “It’s something about inverting when you 
| divide.” 

“That’s easy,” said Polly as she folded 
I her napkin and whisked out of the dining- 
| room. 

“Tonight we’ll see if the clock can’t 
| teach us something about that, too,” said 
| Father. 

“I didn’t know fractions would ever 
| make me forget to eat my dinner,” and 
| Johnny set to work at subtracting from 
| the remaining contents of his plate with 
| astonishing rapidity. 

j=3 

| How the Clock Helped Invert the Divisor 

That night the aid of the good-natured 
| clock was again called in, to help in the 
| business of inverting the divisor. The 
| lesson dealt with the multiplication and 
I division of fractions, and Johnny was 
| puzzled to understand why his teacher had 
i told them that when they divided f by 
| 3, they must multiply it by 

“Let’s see,” said Father. “When you 
| say of the clock’s face, what does that 
| 12 underneath the line mean? It means 
| that you have taken one of the 12 five- 
I minute spaces into which the face is di¬ 
ll vided, doesn’t it? Now, if you multiply 
| that 12 below the line by 5, what have 
1 you?” 

| “Sixtieths.”. 

“And in doing that, what have you done 
I to the clock’s face? You have divided 
I How stultify- , !t UP, into smaller portions 
1 rny Divides in !’ a y en t V ou ? . Because * of 
I Fractionland 'j ls a one-minute space, while 

tu of it is a five-minute 
| space. And do you see how that leads 
1 to the rule you do not understand? Mul¬ 
ti 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

tiplying the part of the fraction below the 
line—the denominator—divides the whole 
of which the fraction represents a part 
into still smaller portions. So when we 
want to divide a fraction, we multiply the 
part below the line. 

—T~2 X 5 OT do> 

because da is the same as 6 5 o —you learned 
that this noon—and when you take 5„°f 
Y 2 you mean one of those sixtieths—«V 





Proving It by the 
Clock 

“Let’s prove it by 
the clock,” Father 
went on. “The space 
between XII and I 
is ^ of the clock’s 
face, but it is di¬ 
vided into 5 smaller 
spaces, and each one 
of these represents a minute or do of an 
hour. If you take i of the space between 
XII and I you have one of the minute 
spaces, but that is do of an hour— £ of 


i 

12 


_ 1 _ ” 

60 - 


“Try some new numbers. You know I 
that if you divide three-quarters of an | 
hour by three you will have one quarter. | 
f-^3 =- 4 , or |X i=A or g 

We multiply the denominator of that | | 
by 3, because by doing that we will divide | 
the clock’s face into spaces £ as large as g 
the ones we started out with. But of § 
an hour is 3 five-minute parts, or 15 min- | 
utes, which is | of an hour. And this is | 
the way we show that fact in Arithmetic f§ 

language— § 

-it v - 1 —- = 

4 /X Jiy- n EE 

We say the 3’s cancel —the three above | 
the line means that 3 of the parts are to I 
be taken, and the 3 below the line means § 
we are to divide the whole into 3’s. To | 
save time we just cross them out. It’s g 
like taking the same amount away from | 
both sides of a balanced scale—the 3 above g 
balances the 3 below the line. Take out 1 
both and you leave the fraction just as it 1 
was.” | 

How Fractions Act When You Multiply 

“I see how you multiply denominators 1 

now, but what happens if you multiply the | 
number above the line?” asked Johnny. 

“Suppose we take 5 minutes which is | 
tV of the clock’s face. Multiplying the i 
numerator by 2 gives us — 

J \/- 2 — 2 = 

1 2 A t 1 2 = 

But what is ^ of the. clocks face? It = 
is l of it—two of the five-minute spaces, g 

or ten minutes, which is i of an hour, g 
So how have we changed the value of the i 
fraction, the Ar, by multiplying the numer- 1 

ator?” I 


J* 


2 74 




^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii practical 

“We have made it twice as big,” 
g answered Johnny. “When you multiply 
| the numerator of a fraction you make the 
| fraction bigger, but when you multiply the 
H denominator you make the fraction 
i smaller.” 

g “Do you see why?” questioned his 

H father. 

| “Yes, because the numerator just tells 
| how many parts of the thing are taken, 


ARITHMETIC iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii't^ 

but the denominator tells how big those | 
parts are, and if there are only a few of | 

‘Dividina the them the ^ wil1 be °l uite bi S’ 1 
Whole into but lf yotl kee P multiplying | 

Smaller ‘Parts and ™ akln 8 more ° f them— | 
that is, making the denom- n 
inator a bigger number—you are cutting | 
the parts up smaller and smaller all the | 
time, so you are really dividing the whole | 
into smaller pieces.” 1 









| /\ FEW nights later the family was 
| -ti gathered around the library table af- 
1 ter supper. Johnny’s lessons for the next 
1 day were finished and he was busy mend- 
1 ing one of the baby’s toys. Grace was 
i struggling with her Arithmetic lesson for 
i the following day, and after chewing up 
| two pencils and covering several sheets of 
| paper wfith fruitless scribbling, she re- 
| marked dejectedly, 

“Father, I wish you could find some- 
! thing that would help me understand 
1 decimals the way the clock helped 
| Johnny with fractions. I think they are 
1 awfully hard and I’d like to know where 
| they got the idea of figuring things by tens, 
| anyway?” 


‘‘Just think,” said Mother, looking up I 
from her sewing, “and see if you can’t g 
answer that yourself. How do the little 1 

x CjL / . folks in the ‘baby grade’ at I 

the Number school begin to count ? Even i§ 

World y° u count tbat wa y yourself, I 

sometimes, and have to be re- 1 
minded that it is a good way to begin but 1 
a poor way after you have learned to think g 
in figures.” | 

Grace couldn’t think what way Mother I 
meant. | 

“Don’t you remember how you first | 
learned to count on your fingers? Sav- | 
ages, who are very much like little g 
children, you know, learned to count g 
first by counting on something, and what | 


r"-- . ..........I. ! 




























t-Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw PICTURED KNOWLEDGE niimiiranmiiiiiiiiimiraiiiiiininiiiiiiiiinimiinmnmiiiiimiiiinniiig 


could be more simple than counting on 
their fingers which they always carry 
around with them? And they were 

so accustomed to 
counting by tens, 
that when they 
came to invent 
systems of money 
and measuring 
they used ten as a 
unit. So today we 
have the metric 
. measuring system 
and the money of 
most countries, as 
well as percentage, 
based on these ten decimals that are part 
of our hands.” 

“And was that how decimals began?” 
asked Grace. “If I had known that it 
would have been lots more fun.” 

“Now,” Mother went on, “suppose we 
had black-eyed Susans in our garden that, 
instead of petals, had ten pennies arranged 
around their centers.” 


have to pick before you could go down to 
the corner and buy an ice-cream soda?” 

Buying Sodas by Decimals 

“Just one,” answered Grace, “because 
sodas are ten cents.” 

“Or you could pull off one of the dime 
petals of the cosmos flowers, couldn’t you? 
But suppose you and Polly wanted to go 
to the circus—that costs fifty cents apiece 
you know.” 





CENT 


,1 Cent 


1 CENT; 


1CENT 


Grace loved flowers and had a little 
| corner of the yard that was all her own. 
| In it she had planted these very flowers 
| Mother was talking about. “Then sup- 
| pose we had cosmos blossoms that had 



| ten dimes for petals. And we might have 
| big sunflowers with dollar petals. How 
| many of the black-eyed Susans would you 




“I’d pick a whole cosmos because that | 
would have ten dime petals, or I’d pick ten | 
black-eyed Susans, because that would be | 
a hundred pennies.” 



“Do you see?” said Mother. “It’s all 
in tens. The pennies grow into dimes and 
the dimes into dollars. And it’s the same 
with decimals, only in writing them, we 
leave off the naughts on the right-hand 
side, because we can do just 
as well without them. You 
see how $.10 is tit of a dollar, 
and .10 or .1 is just an¬ 
other way of writing i—an easier way. 
But the black-eyed Susan penny petals are 
not worth so much and they have a dif¬ 
ferent sign. It is .01. That naught between 
the.T and the decimal point, making two 
decimal spaces, is just Arithmetic language 
for one cent or one hundredth. (Centum 


VChere the 
Naught 
Comes In 


2 76 















PRACTICAL ARITHMETIC 


♦> 
♦ ♦ 


is Latin for hundred, you know, and ‘one 
cent’ means one one-hundredth.)” 

“I see that, Mama, but it’s when you 
have two and three naughts that it bothers 
me so!” 

The Mills in the Decimals 

“Well, suppose we had a rose, each one 
of whose petals meant one mill, or tu of 
a cent. How would we write its value in 
Arithmetic language?” 

Grace did not know. 

“A ‘1’ to the right of the decimal point 
means what?” asked Mother. “If you have 
a naught after it, it is $.10 or tu of a dol¬ 
lar. But we don’t really need the naught 
—the ‘1’ and the decimal alone (.1) mean 
W too. And to say one cent or one one- 
hundredth, we put a naught between the ‘1’ 
and the decimal point—.01. The second 
space means that we are talking about 
tV of ttj or one one-hundreth of a dollar. 
But we want to write out one mill, which 
is ttt of one one-hundredth of a dollar. 

“I think I know what to do,” said Grace. 
“You keep on moving the l’s one place to 
the right when the numbers get smaller. 
That was in the lesson.” 

“That’s right,” said Mother. “We have 
.1 which means tti. To take tV of that we 
^ ,. put in a naught and move 

Keeping the ‘Y over one space—.01. 

^ Now to write iY of that we 

do the same thing, put in an¬ 
other naught and move the T over farther 
—.001. You must remember that every 
naught to the right of the decimal point 
before you come to the figure, means di¬ 
vide by 10, but that you can add as many 
naughts as you want to the right of the 
figures, without changing the value of your 
decimal. This way—.01 means ti> of .1, and 
.1 means ^ of 1, but .010 is the same as .01, 
and .1000 is the same as .1. But now that 
we have learned how to write the value of 
our one-mill rose petal, how many of them 
must there be on a rose before that rose 
is worth as much as one sunflower petal?” 

Grace puckered her forehead in deep 
thought. Slowly she thought it out, aloud. 

How Decimals Help You Out 

“There are ten mills in a cent, so the rose 
would have to have ten petals before it 
would be worth as much as the black-eyed 
Susan petal. And it would 
have to have ten times ten, or 
a hundred petals, before it 

ay would be worth a whole 

black-eyed Susan or a dime. And it would 
have to have ten times as many petals as 
that to be worth a dollar, or a sunflower 
petal; 10X10X10 (working it out) is 1,000.’’ 

“See how much work that took,” said 


By the 
Easiest 


Mother. “When if you would just remem- m 
ber that every space to the right of the § 
decimal point means i\> of the one before g 
it, you would know by just looking at .01 § 
that you would put in a naught and move | 
the T one space to the right to write | 

of it. Then you have three decimal spaces | 

1-2-3 | 

—.0 0 1, so that tV of tV of tV of a dollar m 
would be three spaces away from the deci- I 
mal point—.001.” i 

“I think I understand that, now,” said | 
Grace. “But I’ll be sure to get mixed up § 
when it comes to multiplying and dividing g 
the old things.” g 

And Here Is a Multiplication Secret 

“Let’s see if we can’t find a way out of j 
that trouble, too,” said Mother.. “How | 
would we draw three of the black-eyed g 
Susan petals in Arithmetic pictures?” 

“The black-eyed Susans have ten one- {§ 
cent petals,” began Grace. § 

“Let’s call them one one-hundredths § 
now,” interrupted Mother. 1 

“Three of them would look like this— I 
.03,” said Grace. | 

“And you would read the picture—?” § 

“Three one-hundredths.” | 

“How would 35 of them look?” asked I 
Mother. I 

.35-wrote Grace. I 

“Right, and how would 2 of the cosmos | 
petals look?” | 

.2, of course. g 

“But how would 35 cosmos petals be | 
written ?” | 

Grace put down .35 and then saw that | 
that was the same as 35 of the black-eyed § 
Susan petals, which meant 35 hundredths, g 
That wouldn’t do because cosmos petals | 
meant tenths, and 35 hundredths couldn’t | 
be written in the same way as 35 tenths. 1 
“Thirty-five dimes are how many dol- i 
lars ?” g 

$3.50, of course. | 

“Thirty-five tenths, then, is 3 wholes and I 
5 over, or, in decimal language, 3.5—three g 
and five tenths.” g 

“Now how would you write 35 rose g 
petals? Let’s multiply it out.” 

“Thirty-five times one one-thousandth is g 
thirty-five thousandths. The ‘thousandths’ | 
tell you there must be three places there, 1 
and the 35 only uses up two of them, so | 
we must put a naught after the decimal g 

point ” .001 i 

35 I 


.035 


“Now suppose we were to multiply the 
thirty-five thousandths (.035) by the three- 
tenths (.3). What should we have? In frac¬ 
tions that would mean we were going to say 
ToooXfjj, which equals T £gg<j, doesn’t it? 


♦ ♦ 


11111111118 


277 




But there is an easier way than that. To 
write liBoo decimally, how many spaces 
must you have to the right of the decimal 
point?” 

“As many spaces as the number of times 
you have divided by ten,” said Grace. 

“Right,” replied Mother, “and how many 
tens are there in 10,000?” 

Grace began to count them on her fing¬ 
ers, then smiled as she remembered the 
connection between decimals and fingers. 

“You have to divide by 10 four times to 
get ten-thousandths.” 

“There is an easy way to figure it out 
while you are multiplying,” said Mother. 
“Count up the decimal spaces you have, all 
together, in that multiplication example, 

.035 

.3 

and you find there are four 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Grace wrinkled her forehead at this and 
her mother said: 

“Put it this way: How many times do 
you have to multiply 




to make it = 


Then 


1 .035) tell 


Fractions 
Related 
to Decimals 


= er 


,0105 

put four of them in your answer.” 

“Why?” asked Grace. 

“We’re coming to that. A decimal is a 
fraction, isn’t it? .5 is just another way of 
writing t 5 o or The figures (the 35 in 
you the numerator of your 
decimal fraction and the 
number of spaces (three in 
the .035) tells you the de¬ 
nominator. Three spaces 
mean thousandths; four, ten-thousandths, 
and so on. But the other night Johnny 
learned that multiplying the denominator, 
the part below the line, did what to the 
value of the fraction?” 

“Made it smaller,” piped Johnny from 
the other side of the table. 

“All right; then when we multiply .035 
by .3 we are multiplying thousandths by 
tenths, taking W of Tooo> s'o which will 
the decimal we’ll get be, larger or smaller 
than the one we started with?” 

“Smaller.” 

“And how do we make decimals small- 


“Oh, I see,” said Grace. “By moving 
the figures farther to the right of the deci¬ 
mal point. And that’s why you add up the 
spaces when you multiply—every space 
means you have divided by 10 once, and 
when you multiply three spaces by one 
space, 

3 spaces 1 space 
(iVXrVXru) X (ttt) or .001 X •!> 
means you divided by 10 four times.” 


it 


Untangling the Division Puzzle 


Too 

1000 ? You have to‘multiply the numer¬ 
ator by 5, don’t you? And the denomina¬ 
tor, 100, has to be multiplied by 10 before 
it becomes 1,000. So you must multiply 
Too t>y t 5 o to get tooo* Too X T^b—'iooo- O r 
.07 X.5 =.035. So .035 -f-. 07 = .5. When 
multiplied we added up all the 
to find the number of spaces 


we 


spaces 

in the product, because spaces to the right 
of the decimal point mean divisions by 10, 
and our fraction was being made smaller 
—it was getting farther away from the 
decimal point. But in the division of 
decimals we subtract the number of spaces 
in the divisor from the number in the divi¬ 
dend and point off the quotient accord¬ 
ingly, because when you divide one decimal 
fraction by another one (the .035 by .07, 
for instance) you multiply its value by 
just as many tens as there are decimal 
spaces in the divisor. There are two spaces 
in .07, so you have multiplied the denomi¬ 
nator of .035 by 10 twice when you divided 
it by .07. Let’s see if that is not so. 

rothr 


7. V -MTHr —-JL. 

nnj — A hir e /N ^7= To 
1 0 


“That’s right. And now let’s se£ about 
those division examples. When you divide 
the denominators of fractions you remem¬ 
ber the value of the fraction grows larger, 
so in dividing .035 by .07, you would in¬ 
crease the value of the decimal.” 


You have changed the thousandths of the 
denominator, T ffo> to tenths:, ffr, by 
multiplying by 100. But when we do that 
decimally, we know that every space in the 
divisor means multiply by 10 once, so we 
just subtract the number of spaces in the 
divisor from the number in the dividend.” 

“But what if your divisor has more 
spaces than your dividend? Like this ex¬ 
ample in tomorrow’s lesson. .96=-.0032.” 

“You can tell at a glance that 32 goes 
3 times in 96, can’t you? So you know 
your answer will be 3 written somehow. 
In dividing .96 by .0032 you are multiplying 
by 10 how many times ?” 

“As many times as there are spaces to 
the right of the decimal point in the .0032,” 
answered Grace. “So you are multiply¬ 
ing by 10X10X10X10, or four times.” 

“That’s right, and so .96-^.0032 is 300—- 
it takes two multiplications by 10 to make 
the dividend a whole number and the two 
more multiplications by 10 bring it up to 
hundreds. We can’t subtract the number of 
spaces in .0032 from the number in .96, but 
we can add as many naughts as we want to 
to the right of the figures in our decimal, 
because they don’t change its value a bit. 
00321 .9600 | 300. So when the divisor has 
9600 

the 


i 


more spaces than the dividend, you add 
naughts to the right of the dividend until 
it has as many spaces as the divisor, and 
your quotient is a whole or a mixed number.” 


n 


278 











^!Iiiiiiiiii!i>iiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii]iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PRACTICAL ARITHMETIC iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuidiuiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 




♦♦ 


T HE Mathews family was again at 
dinner. This time it was Saturday 
and Grace had asked two small playmates 
to stay to dinner with her. They had 
reached the dessert stage, and Polly, the 
oldest of the children, was helping her 
mother by cutting a delicious, big pie. The 
cook had made it extra large so that Polly 
could easily divide it into seven good-sized 
pieces and one half-sized piece for Johnny’s 
T i , second helping; for a second 

jo nny s piece of pie, half as big as 

the first one, was regarded by 
e ping Johnny as his by divine right. 

There was a lull in the conversation as 
Polly took up the pie knife, and she re¬ 
marked, “There’s been so much Arithmetic 
in the air here, lately, with Johnny and the 
clock and Grace and her flowers and things, 
that I don’t like to say anything about my 
troubles, but I think Fractions and Deci¬ 
mals are easy compared to Percentage.” 

“Have you been having trouble with your 
Arithmetic, daughter?” asked Father, with 
a smile. 

“Percentage Before Pleasure,” Said 
Mother! 

“Yes. Mother told me I must do my 
Monday’s lessons before I go over to 
Louise’s this afternoon, because she says 
you’re going to take us all to the movies 
tonight and there won’t be any other time 
to do them.” 


‘Percentage 
in the 
Pie 


“Well, let’s see what we can find to tell 
us about percentage,” and Father looked 
thoughtfully over the table. “I believe the 
pie you are cutting will tell us all about it.” 

“How?” inquired Polly eagerly as she 
passed Mother the first piece. 

“Well, one per cent of a 
thing means x& g of it 
doesn’t it? If you divided 
your pie into five equal pieces 
what per cent of the whole would each one 
be?” 

“Five per cent,” answered Polly, without 
thinking. 

Why One-Fifth Is Not Five Per Cent 

“No, now think. One-fifth of the whole 
pie would not be 5% of it because the 
whole pie isi 100% and £ of it is i of 
100%, or how many per cent?” 

“Oh, 20%, not 5%,” said Polly. “Because 
there are 5 20’s in 100. Then when I cut 
the pie into 5 equal pieces each piece is 
20% of the whole pie.” 

“Yes, and, if you cut it into 10 equal 
pieces each piece would be -?” 

“10% of the whole.” 

“Into 4 equal pieces -?” 

“25% of the whole.” 

All of this was plain sailing because 
Polly knew that W is .1, or .10 or 10%— 
that these are three ways of saying the 
same thing; that \ is .25 or 25%, and so 
on. But the next step was harder. 
































it 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


:: 



What Might Happen to Johnny 



a 





= 


= > 


“If you had told Johnny he couldn’t have 
his extra half piece this noon, and had cut 
the pie into 7 equal pieces, what per cent 
would each of us eat?” 

But before Polly could think out her an¬ 
swer, Father asked another question. 

“How do you change a fraction to a 
‘per cent/ so to speak?” 

“You change it to a decimal fraction 
first and express it in hundredths, and that 
tells you what per cent of the whole it is.” 

“All right, if each of us ate J of the 
pie, what per cent would that be?” Pull¬ 
ing an old letter and a pencil from his 
pocket, Father gave them to Polly to use. 

“To change a fraction to a decimal, you 
Changing P oint ° ff and add naughts to 
Fractions to * he numerator and divide it 
Dpcimah by the denominator,” an- 
nounced Polly, so this is 
what she put down: y= 7L - 1 .xi 5 “One-seventh 
equals fourteen and two-sevenths hun¬ 
dredths.” 

“And .14f is- what per cent of the pie?” 

“14y%, because per cent means hun¬ 
dredths, and you must leave off the decimal 
point and call it per cent.” 

“Right. Now we’ve settled that question, 
suppose we find out how much of the pie 


each of us really does eat, with that extra 
half piece of Johnny’s taken out.” 


Fractions and Percentage 


Polly was puzzled, so Father suggested 
that she find out what part of the whole 
pie that half piece was. 

“It’s- iY of it because there are 7 other 
pieces twice as big as it is. That would 
make 14 other pieces like it, and it makes 
the 15th.” 

“That’s right. And xY 'of the pie is 
what per cent of it?” 

By figuring it out on the envelope, Polly 
found that 


JL - 1 5 I 1.0 0 I .06 2- 


15' 


90 

10 


10 

15 


= 61 % 


z 

3 


“Now that we know that Johnny’s extra 
piece of pie is 6|% of the whole, how 
much does each of us eat?” 






Percentage As Easy As Pie 


“That piece is only half as big as the 
other pieces, because Mother says two whole 
pieces of pie are too much for anybody— 
even Johnny,” said Polly, “so each of us 
must eat 2X6§% of the pie, which is 
12|%, or (because ^=l£) 13|% of the pie.” 

“Good,” said Father. “Percentage by the 



1 


280 




















tJiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiN PRACTICAL 

1 pie method is ‘as easy as pie,’ isn’t it?” 

“And I know how much Johnny eats, too,” 
| cried Polly, still scribbling. “He eats one 
| and one-half times as much as we do, or 
1 three times as much as his second piece. 


ARITHMETIC ii"iii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinit^ 

3 X 6 § %=181 % =2 0 %=£ 

Piggy, piggy, piggy, you ate a whole 1 
fifth of that great big pie,” shouted Polly 1 
as Johnny disappeared through the dining- 1 
room door. I 


Short Cuts In Arithmetic 


Adding for combinations of figures: 

We know at a glance the sums of the 
1 following: 

|53567 42384 6 

§5354342374 6 

§ 4 5 2 3 4 

|__ _ _ _ _2 __ _ 

| 10 10 15 10 10 8 8 9 15 12 12 

When we see combinations of figures of 
§ this kind in columns which we are adding, 
1 we should add in the total of the combina- 
I tion and not each separate figure. 

1 For example: 5625 

| 5485 

| 6130 

1 4430 

| 3544 

| 7243 

§ 363 

1 1245 

I 2365 

| 36430 

| This should be added: 

10 plus 10 plus 10 = 30. Put down 0 
i and carry 3. 3 plus 10 plus 10 plus 10 plus 

! 10 = 43. Put down 3 and carry 4. 4 plus 

1 10 plus 10 plus 10 =: 34. Put down 4 and 
| carry 3. 3 plus 3 plus 10 plus 10 plus 10 == 
§ 36. Put down 36. 

Addition and Subtraction 

When it is necessary to make many cal- 
§ culations in addition or subtraction, time 
§ may be saved by the omission of the line 
i. under the figures to be added or subtracted. 

§§ Multiplication 

To multiply by figures when either or 
| both of them end in a cipher or a series of 
I ciphers, disregard all ciphers to the right 
I of the other figures in the multiplier and 
| multiplicand. After arriving at the'prod- 
§ uct, add to it as many ciphers as were pre- 
I viously disregarded. For example: 


2500 2500 

270 270 

175 rather than 175000 

50 5000 

675000 675000 


To multiply by 25, 50, 75, etc.; 

Inasmuch as 25, = \ of 100, 50 — \ of 
1 100 and 75 = f of 100, multiplication by 


these numbers may be performed as fol- n 
lows: i 

25—Add two ciphers and divide by 4. | 

6250 X 25 | 

4 [625000 | 

131250 | 

50—Add two ciphers and divide by 2. 

6250X50 1 

2 [ 625000 | 

312500 | 

75—Add two ciphers, multiply by 3 and I 
divide by 4. | 

6250X75 1 

625000 | 

_3 § 

4)1875000 | 

443750 | 

Six Per Cent Method of Figuring Interest = 

For ordinary business calculations, a 1 
month is treated as 30 days and a year as i 
360 days. . § 

Interest on $1.00 for 1 year at 6%=$0.06. § 
Interest on $1.00 for 60 days(J of a I 
year) at 6%=$0.01, or T ^ 0 of the prin- § 
cipal of $1.00. 1 

Therefore,, to find the interest on any § 
amount for 60 days at 6% divide by 100 1 
(or point off two decimal places). For § 
example: $750.00 for 60 days at 6%—$7.50. 1 
To find the interest on any amount at 6% § 
for more or less than 60 days, figure the 1 
interest for 60 days and then add or sub- {§ 
tract as many sixtieths of this amount as § 
the days are more or less than 60. For | 
example: $750.00 for 90 days at 6%. 

$750.00 for 60 days at 6%=$ 7.50 
90—60=30. §§ or g of $7.50 =$ 3.75 | 

Answer $11.25 I 

Or: $750.00 for 45 days at 6%: 

$750.00 for 60 days at 6%=$ 7.50 
60—45=15. or j of $7.50 =$ 1.88 § 

Answer >$5.62 § 

To find the interest on any amount at I 
any ner cent for any length of time, find § 
the interest at 6% 'for the length of time I 
as above. Add or subtract from this I 
amount as many sixths as the per cent is g 
more or less than 6%. For example: $750.00 | 
for 90 days at 4%. § 

$750.00 for 90 days at 6%=$11.25 1 

6—4=2. | of $11.25 = 3.75 

Answer $ 7.50 1 




281 

















....limn PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iini | i || i | i |||||||||||||||| 1 || n^ 

| • Arithmetic and System in Business • § 


You have often noticed the gro- 
| cer’s boy as he goes from house to 
1 house taking the day’s orders. He 
| stops at Mrs. Smith’s. She orders a 
| bottle of vanilla, three pounds of 
| sugar, a pound of butter and a dozen 
I eggs. He then goes to Mrs. Jones’ 
| house and takes an order for seven 
| pounds of flour, a box of Uneeda 
| Biscuits, an ounce of pepper and a 
| box of matches. Mrs. Brown orders 
| various other groceries; Mrs. Green 
| orders still other things and so it 
| goes as he makes his rounds. 

If he did not stop as he took the 
| order at each house to put it down on 
| his pad or in his order book, he 

I The Grocery would not know when he 
| Boy and returned to the store 

| His Orders w h a t each customer had 

| ordered. The grocer would perhaps 
| send Mrs. Jones seven pounds of 
| flour, a basket of potatoes, a bottle 
| of vanilla and an ounce of pepper, 
| when she had ordered something en- 
| tirely different. He cannot remem- 
| ber what each has ordered, so he 
| puts them down. 

The First Step in Business 

This “putting things down’’ is the 
| first great step in business, in taking 
| care of our money and providing for 
| all the nice things money will buy 
| and that money enables us to do for 
| ourselves and for others. 

An account book not only tells you 
| what you have done with your 
| money, but it tells you what all of us 
| like to know—where more money is 
| coming from; that is, who owes us 
| money for things we have sold (if 
| we are storekeepers, for example), 
| or what we have done for them and 
| what they owe us for doing it if we 
| are doctors or lawyers. 


Another thing—and this is the 
most wonderful thing about these ac¬ 
count books—they turn pennies into 
dollars. 

“Take care of the pennies,” says 
the good old adage, “and the dollars 
will take care of themselves.” It is 

Mating * n an account book that 
Pennies into you take care of the pen- 
‘Dollars nies; and then, the first 

thing you know there are the dollars, 
too! 

An account book is just as import¬ 
ant for men,—and so for boys—as 
law books are for lawyers or medical 
books for doctors. 

An account book tells a boy how to 
think out money matters—just as a 
lawyer’s books tell him how to think 
out a law case. 


Bookkeeping and Housekeeping 

Yes, and girls, too. Whether she | 
goes into business for herself, or | 
learns to keep books for somebody | 
else, or just stays in the great busi- | 
ness of keeping house and making a | 
home, a girl should know about ac- | 
count books. Every good house- | 
keeper should also be a good book- | 
keeper. She should not only know | 
just how much she owes the grocer | 
and the baker and the butcher and | 
dry goods merchant, but just how | 
much she has to spend from week to | 
week and how to spend it to best | 
advantage. She can only do this | 
best if she keeps an account of her | 
income and her expenses. j 

Not only must we learn to put | 
things down in our account book, | 
but we must learn to put them down | 
properly. If our grocer’s boy, in | 
taking the orders, were to put them | 
down on whatever odd scraps of | 
paper he happened to have with | 





h 


PRACTICAL ARITHMETIC 


| him, when he returned to the store 
| he would pull out of one pocket an 
| old envelope on the back of which 
| Mrs. Smith’s and Mrs. Jones’ orders 
| would be jumbled together; out of 
| another pocket, perhaps, a “movie” 
| program on which would be 
| scrawled the orders which Mrs. 
| Brown and Mrs. Green had given 
| him. The grocer would have diffi- 
| culty in filling orders from such 
1 scraps of paper, consequently he 
| takes care to provide the boy with a 
| pad of paper or a book so that the 
| orders may be recorded properly 
| and clearly. 

[ In keeping accounts, we must take 
| care to use a book, and it should be 
| one which will not easily become 
| soiled and crumpled. 

=3 

Don’t Put Off Putting Things Down 

Another point which is of impor- 
| tance to us is that we write down 
| the things in the account book in the 
| order in which they occur. If we 
| receive $1.00 on May I, $2.00 on 
| May 2, 50c on May 3 and 75c on 
| May 4, we should write them down 
| in the above order and not May 4, 
| 75c, May 2, $2.00, May I, $1.00 and 
| then May 3, 50c. If we mixed up 
j all the dates, put the thirtieth of the 
| month before 'the tenth and had 
| May follow November, we should 
| never know where to look for any 
| one item and we could not tell, with- 
| out difficulty, how much we had at 
| any given time. 

Where Blunders Cost Money 

The final thing we should learn in 
| keeping an account book is to keep it 
| neatly. We may have put down 
| everything in the right kind of a 
| book in the proper order and yet if 
| our writing runs up and down hill, 
| if our columns of figures “wobble” 


tv. 


from side to side and the pages are | 
covered with finger marks and ink j 
Is This spots, other persons will | 

a “l” or not think that we have 1 

a kept the accounts well. | 

In addition to the matter of pride | 
we should be careful in these re- j 
spects because such things may lead j 
us to make errors. The figure one, | 
for example, if blotted, might look | 
like the figure nine. 

If we have now learned that in | 
keeping an account book we must | 
first be sure to put down everything j 
we need to know about each item or j 
transaction; that second, we must j 
put it down when it happens or so | 
soon after it happens that we will | 
not have forgotten anything about j 
it; that third, we must write it down | 
in a book, a book which will not be | 
easily torn, crumpled or soiled; that j 
fourth, we must put things down in | 
the order in which they occur; and j 
fifth, that we must do our work j 
neatly, we shall be good account j 
keepers. | 

Every bookkeeper or keeper of j 
accounts that learns well these rules | 
is valuable to his or her employer. | 
If we train ourselves carefully to do | 
the above five things we shall be | 
able to keep any account book, | 
simple or complex, as soon as we be- j 
come familiar with its form. 

Different Kinds of Account Books 

Various kinds of account books | 
are used to keep track of various | 
things. The grocer may keep an ac- | 
count book to show what things he j 
sends to his customers each day, so j 
that at the end of the week or at the | 
end of the month he may send them j 
a bill for all of the purchases. Or ] 
he may keep an account book to j 
show the things he has bought for j 
his store so that he may tell how j 

5 


283 




♦.♦mi . iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiJJ 


much he owes. The principal ac¬ 
count book, however, which the 
small storekeeper uses or which we 
use for keeping track of our personal 
accounts, is a book in which to put 
down things we wish to remember 
about our money ; how much we had; 
how much was given to us or earned 
by us; how much we have spent, and 
how much we have left. This we 
may call a Cash Book. 

To keep a cash account we need to 
know only those things which we 
wish to remember about our money. 
We should first write down the 
amount of money we have when we 
start the account. As we receive 
money, we should put down prop¬ 
erly, neatly and in an orderly man¬ 
ner the amount and what we re¬ 
ceived the money for. As we spend 
money, we should put down prop¬ 


erly, neatly and in an orderly man- g 
ner the amount and that for which | 
we have spent it. 

For a simple account, we may use | 
a book the pages of which are ruled j 
as below. 

The ‘‘Rights and Lefts” in Bookkeeping 

As a matter of convenience we use | 
the left-hand page for the money we | 
receive and the right-hand page for | 
the money we spend. j 

On the first line at the top of the | 
page we should tell what kind of | 
things we are going to put on that | 
page. For example, on the left- | 
hand page, top line, we might put j 
jy ie “Cash Received during | 

Heading the month of January” | 

of the (Page ( 0 r February or March, | 

whatever month it happened to be). | 
On the right-hand side, top line, we | 



81 


♦<* 


284 


















j^iiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiii[ii!iii[iiiiiiiiii[iiiiiiiiiii[i!iiii[iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiini[ p r a Qp jCAL ARITHMETIC iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiW 


| might put “Cash paid out during the 
| month of January.” This is called 
| “heading up the page.” 

After heading up the page, we 
| should state on the first line, under 
| the heavy lines at the top of the 
| page, the amount of money we have 
| at the time we begin keeping the 
| account. If we started the account 
| January I, we would put down on 
| this line in columns I and 2, the date, 
| as Jan. I, 1916; in column 3, tell 
| what it is, as “Cash on Hand”; in 
| columns 4 and 5, the amount of 
| money, the dollars going into col- 
| umn 4 and the cents into column 5. 

As we receive money, we should 
| write down the amounts on the left- 
| hand page, putting the date in col- 
| umns I and 2, telling from whom 
| and why we received it in column 3 
| and the amount itself in columns 4 
| and 5, using, as before, column 4 for 
| the dollars and column 5 for the 
| cents. These amounts should be 
| entered neatly in the order in which 
| we receive them, using a line or 
| more for each item. 

If we follow these rules through - 
| out the month we shall have made a 
| record of every cent of money re- 
| ceived and spent; we shall have 
| written it in a proper book, in the 
| order in which we received or spent 
| it and our work will have been done 
| neatly. 

By adding up the left-hand page 
1 we are able to tell how much money 
| we had at the beginning of the 
| month, plus the money we received. 
| By subtracting from this amount 
| what we had at the beginning, we are 
| able to tell how much we received. 
| By adding the right-hand page we 
| are able to tell how much we have 
I spent. By subtracting the total of the 
| right-hand page from the total of 
| the left-hand page, we are able to 


tell how much money we should 
have in hand. 

Carrying Amounts Forward 

When either the right-hand or the 
left-hand page is filled before the 
end of the month, we should add 
both the pages, write in the amounts 
and the words “Carried forward” 
and turn over the page. After writ¬ 
ing in the headings on the new 
pages, we should enter on the first 
line under the heavy lines at the top 
of the page, in columns 1 and 2 the 
date; in column 3 “Brought for¬ 
ward ;” and in columns 4 and 5 the 
totals of the pages we have just 
turned, the total from the left-hand 
page going to the new left-hand 
page and that from the right-hand 
page to the new right-hand page. 

At any time we may add the left- 
and right-hand pages and subtract- 

HowMuch in g the amount of the 

Money right-hand page (what 

Havel ? we p ave spent) from 

the amount of the left-hand page 
(what we had at the beginning, plus 
what we have received) we are able 
to find what we should have on hand. 

When we have reached the end of 
a month or of any other length of 
time that we may have decided to 
use, we should find the amount that 
we should have on hand and use it to 
start the next month or the next 
period of time. It should be entered 
on the left-hand page on the first 
line under the heavy lines at the top, 
using the columns as before. 

How John Jones Did It 

On the next page we have a page 
from a book in which John Jones 
kept account of the money he re¬ 
ceived and spent. Under his father’s 
guidance, John goes over the ac¬ 
count each month, picks out the same 


... .iiiiiiiii ..."ini... . . 111111,1111111111111111 .. 

285 







PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 



HfiS 


| kind of items and puts them togeth- 
| er. He arranges January as follows: 
| Cash received: 

Allowances from father. .$1.25 


For chores.40 


Total received .$1.65 

Cash spent: 

Skates .$1.25 

Shows .25 

Church .10 

Candy .22 

Soda .15 


Total spent .$1.97 


By keeping this account book 
| each month and each month going 
| over it to put together the same kind 
| of things, John will have at the end 
| of the year a complete record of all 
| the money he received and spent. 
| This record might look something 
1 like the above. 


This is a simple plan for keeping | 
simple accounts, but if the principles | 
laid down in the beginning are | 

Little Booh studied and if the | 
and method of separating the 1 

Big Books different kinds of items j 

is understood, there should be no | 
difficulty in keeping any book or | 
books. | 

When You Have Money in the Bank 

What would be the simplest way | 
to keep a bank account? Would it | 
not be to put down the amount of | 
money we had in the bank at any | 
date, add to it each amount we put | 
in (deposit—as it is called) and de- | 
duct each amount that we with- | 
draw? Such an account would look i 


like this: | 

In bank, January 1.$512.63 j 

Deposited, January 2. 100.00 | 


311111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111U11111111111111111111111111111111111111111U11111111111111M 


286 
































^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ PRACTICAL ARITHMETIC iinnnuiimmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiuiminuiiuimiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiimiiiss 


In bank, January 2.$612.63 

Deposited, January 10. 150.00 

In bank, January 10.$762.63 

Withdrew, January 11. 102.50 

In bank, January 11.$660.13 

Deposited, January 16. 250.00 

In bank, January 16.$910.13 

Withdrew, January 31. 432.13 

In bank, January 31.$478.00 


If we keep account in this way of 
our deposits and our withdrawals, 
we should always be able to tell the 
amount of money we have in the 
bank. Suppose, however, we wish 
to know how much money we depos¬ 
ited during January, or how much 
we withdrew. We are able to tell 
this only by separating the amounts 
of money we put in and took out. 


For example: 

Deposits 

January 2.$100.00 

January 10. 150.00 

January 16. 250.00 

Total deposits.$500.00 

Withdrawals 

January 11.$102.50 

January 31. 43 2 -1 3 

Total withdrawals.$534-63 


It is a simple matter to do this in 
the example given, but if we had a 
deposit every day and if we with¬ 
drew hundreds of items, it would be 
a long, difficult task to find out how 
much we deposited and how much 
we withdrew. 

But This Is a Better Way 

We must find a better way of 
keeping our bank account. 


Instead of putting down the 
amounts, one under the other,. k and 
adding or subtracting as we did be¬ 
fore, let us put down the balance on 
hand and the deposits on one side, 
and the withdrawals on the other 
side. Our account would then look 


like this: 

In bank, January 1.$512.63 

Deposited, January 2. 100.00 

Deposited, January 10. 150.00 

Deposited, January 16. 250.00 


In bank plus deposits. .$1,012.63 

Withdrew, January n.$102.50 

Withdrew, January 31. 432.13 


Total withdrawals.$5 34.63 


By subtracting the total of the 
right-hand column from the total of 
the left-hand column: 

$1,012.63 

534-63 


$ 478.00 

we are able to tell how much we had 
in the bank January 31. By sub¬ 
tracting the amount of money in the 
bank January 1 from the total of 
the left-hand column: 

(Total of left-hand column $1,012.63 
In bank, January 1. 512.63 

Deposits during January $500.00) 
we are able to tell with little trouble 
the total amount of money we de¬ 
posited during January. We can 
also tell at a glance from the right- 
hand column how much money we 
have withdrawn. 

If we kept a cash book, deposited 
in the bank all of the cash we re¬ 
ceived and either drew money from 
the bank to make each payment or 
else made the payment by check 
(which is an order on the bank to 
pay the amount), the cash book 
would also be a record of the bank 


.. .. .iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii*: 


287 



































^Il!!llllllll!l>!ll!l!lll!llllllll!lllll!ll!lllll!l!!lllllllllllll!lll!lllll!lll!l!lllllll!lllll PICTURED 

| account. See illustration -below. 

Many concerns use their cash 
| book in this way to keep track of the 
| bank account. If, however, we do 
| not deposit in the bank all of the 
| cash we receive just as we receive it, 
| we cannot use this plan. We may 
| instead keep the account in a “check 
| book.” This “check book” is a book 
| containing blank checks which the 


KNOWLEDGE oiiiiiiiiinmnmiiiiiiiiiiranranniiraninnnniiiiiiiinraiiiiiiinnmiiuiiinig 

banks give to the people who keep | 
money on deposit with them. 

In some large concerns where it is | 
not convenient for the bookkeeper to | 
have the check book, both of the | 
methods are used, that the book- | 
keeper and the person who has | 
charge of the check book may each | 
know all of the facts concerning the j 
bank account. I 


CASH RECEIVED 



JAN 

FEB 

PAR 

APB 

PAY 

JUNE 

JULY 

AUG. 

SEP7 

1 .. 

OCT 

NOV 

PEC 

TOTAL 




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CASH SPEA/T 



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288 










































































































PRACTICAL 
The Book That Draws the Money 

The pages of the check book pro¬ 
vided by the bank are usually made 
up of three or four checks each with 
a “stub/’ with perforations between 
the checks and between the checks 
and the stubs, as you see in the fol¬ 
lowing illustration : 


ARITHMETIC 

put down in the column at the right 
of the stub. The amounts of the 
checks are added as we go along. 

When we have used a page of 
checks we carry forward the total 
sum of the checks on that page to 
the top of the column on the stubs 
on the next page and add it in with 


♦ ♦ 




WB> 





C-H fTC- < 


CHfoK 


The purpose of the stub is that we 
may put down on it the name of the 
person to whom we gave the check, 
What why we gave it to him 

the Stub and the amount. After 

Tfoes the check is made and 

torn out, the stub remains in the 
book. The amount of the check is 


the amounts of the checks on that 
page. 

In this way we shall have done 
what we did before in our cash book 
illustration. We shall have put down 
by themselves all of the amounts 
which we have withdrawn and added 
them, so that we may be able to tell 


:* 


289 
















v 

«♦ 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


v 

•* 


at any time how much money we 
have withdrawn from the bank, 
although instead of using one page 
on which to put the amounts, we 
may have used many pages. 

On the back of the stubs in the 
check book there are printed two 
columns and in these we may keep 
a record of the deposits we make in 
the bank. 

If we were keeping the record in 
our check book, it would appear on 
the back of the first stub, as follows: 
Balance, January I, 1916 $512.63 

Jan. 2 Cash rec’d from 

Thomas Smith.. 100.00 

Jan. 10 Cash rec’d from 

William Jones.. 150.00 

Jan. 16 Cash rec’d from 

Theodore Brown 250.00 


Total . $1,012.63 

The addition of these figures is of 
course the total of what we had at 
the beginning plus what we have 
added to it. This total, less what we 
had at the beginning, will give the 
amount we have deposited. 

By subtracting the total of the 
checks from the total shown on the 
back of the stubs, we can tell how 
much money we should have at the 
bank. 

At certain times in the year, per¬ 
haps once a month or once in three 
months, the bank tells us how much 
we have on deposit according to its 
records and at the same time returns 
to us the checks it has paid out of 
our account. 

Comparing the amount which the 
bank tells us it has in our account 
with the amount which our record 
shows, we may find, and usually do 
find, that the amounts do not agree. 
The amount shown by the bank will 
generally be the larger. 

To find the reason for the differ¬ 


ence in the two amounts, we must 
take the checks which the bank has 
paid and returned to us and compare 

The Secret them with the Stut>S “ 
of the our check book to see if 

Difference every check we have sent 

out has been paid by the bank 

and returned. The bank only knows 

that w£ have given out checks when 

it is asked by the person who 

holds them, to pay the checks. For 

instance it may happen that we have 

made out and mailed a check to a 

person on January 31, which this 

person does not get until February 1 

or 2 and which is not brought to the 

bank until February 3 or 4. If the 

bank were to tell us the amount 

which we have on deposit January 

31, it would not have paid this check 

at that time and consequently the 

amount which the bank tells us is on 

deposit would be greater than the 

amount which our book shows by 

just the amount of this check. 

For example, let us suppose that 
the bank tells us on January 31 that, 
according to its books, we have 
$760.13 on deposit and it returns to 
us the checks it has paid. 

As our check book shows that we 
have only $478.00 in the bank, we 
compare the checks which the bank 
returned to us with the stubs of the 
checks in our check book and find 
that the bank has not as yet paid and 
returned to us the check which we 
sent to Mr. John Doe, January 31. 

We therefore put down the 
amount which the bank tells 
us it has in our account . . . .$760.13 
subtract the amount of the 
check which we have given 
to Mr. John Doe but which 
the bank has not yet paid. . . 282.13 


and the result is that 
which our record on the 




♦<* 


290 





♦v 


M. 


./?/_ 


To_ 
/or 


Jbk/f 


Bf/trcutffont vn/1 


t . 

CENTS 



p 


1 

1* . 



NOTICE Make No Alteration Or Chanqe On Any Check 
If MisteKe is Made Write New Chech 


PRACTICAL ARITHMETIC 





Glencoe.Ill. 

COOK CO. 


-OX 


70-1319 
J 91 -No^_(/X 


Pay to the 
order of_ 


X31- 


-S. 


I£L 


m 


.Dollars 


• MUM iVWlV CO UTHO CM>CAOO 


X 61 


I check stub or in the cash 
| book shows.$478.00 

That we may not forget why the 
| bank account did not agree with the 
| amount which our book showed, we 
| should put down on the back of the 
| stub opposite the last check which 
| we drew, a memorandum of the 
| above. When we start the month of 
| February, we should begin with this 
| balance of $478.00, just as we began 
| the month of January with the bal- 
| ance of $512.63. 

You see it is important that we 
| should always know just how much 
| we have in the bank; otherwise we 
| shall be giving people orders on the 
| bank for money that isn’t there. 
| And this would be as embarrassing 
| as ordering two dishes of ice cream 
| at a church supper when we have 
| only 15 cents in our pockets! 

“Checks,” “Invoices,” “Receipts,” 
| “Notes.” 

Each of these words makes the 
| business man think of a certain 
| form. Each word describes a paper 
| which is made use of in practically 
| every business concern. 

Because these papers are so com- 
| mon in business and because every 
| business man uses about the same 
| kind of a form for the same purpose, 
1 it is possible to have the form 
| printed. The words which are the 
| same on every form of the same 
I character are printed, while spaces 


are left for those which differ. § 

The Form of Bank Checks 

A bank check is an order on a 1 
bank by a person who has money on | 
deposit in that bank to pay to an- | 
other person a certain sum of money. | 

Because every check will have a | 
number, the name of the town or | 
city, the name of the bank, a request | 
to pay, and a certain amount of | 
money, checks are printed as shown | 
above. 

Space I—For the number of the | 
check. Checks are numbered in the | 
order in which they are made out. 

Space 2—For the date. 

Space 3—For the name of the | 
person to whom the bank is to pay j 
the money. 

Space 4—For the amount of | 
money the bank is to pay, the amount | 
being written, not in figures. 

Space 5—For the amount in fig- | 
ures. | 

Space 6—For the name of the i 

A = 

person signing the check, that is, the | 
person who has the money on de- j 
posit in the bank. 

Form of the “Invoice’' or “Bill” 

An invoice (commonly called a j 
“bill”) is a memorandum which one | 
person who has sold goods or serv- | 
ices gives to another who has bought | 
the goods or services. The invoice j 
should show what has been pur- j 


♦♦ 


♦V 


291 




































..iiiiiiiiiii.iiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE ....iiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig 



| chased, the quantity, the price and 
| the amount. 

Invoices differ slightly in differ- 
| ent kinds of business, but there are 
| certain things which every invoice 
| should contain. These are: 

| i. The date of the invoice. 

2. The name of the person who 
| has purchased the goods or services. 

3. The name of the person who 
| has sold the goods or services. 

4. The address of the person 
| who has sold the goods or services. 

5. A description of the goods or 
I services sold. 


An invoice form is shown, the 1 
numbered spaces of which are for | 
the information as given above. 

The Form of a Receipt 

A receipt is a memorandum given § 
to show that a sum of money has | 
been paid by one person to another | 
on a certain date for a given pur- | 
pose. | 

The form of the ordinary receipt | 
is shown below. The numbered | 
spaces are for the following infor- | 
mation: | 

Space 1—Date. | 



*$ 


292 




































^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim PRACTICAL ARITHMETIC nniiiiiiiniiiiiiininiiuinuiiiiiiuiiiiiBimurainiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiS5 



Space 2—The name of the person 
| who has paid the note. 

Space 3—The amount of money 
| paid (written). 

| .• Space 4—Why the money was 

| paid. 

Space 5—The amount of money 
| paid (figures). 

Space 6—The signature of the 
| person to whom the money was paid. 

Form of a Promissory Note 

A note is a promise in writing 
| given by one person to another to 
| pay a certain sum of money at some 
| future date. 

The ordinary form of a promis- 
| sory note is as shown above. The 


numbered spaces are for the follow- | 
ing information: | 

Space i—The amount of the note | 
(figures). | 

Space 2—Date. | 

Space 3—When you promise to | 
pay. | 

Space 4—The name of the person m 
to whom the promise is made. 

Space 5—The amount of the note | 
—how much you promise to pay j 
(written). | 

Space 6—The words "with inter- j 
est” if the note is to bear interest. 
Space 7—Number of the note. 

Space 8—When it is due. j 

Space 9—The signature of the j 
person making the promise. j 



................iinniniiiniiii........ 


293 























gllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllN 

How “Home” Would Look from the Moon 



294 















IN THE GREAT 
WO RLD OF NAT URE 

ASTRONOMY 




Hway Vp in Ihe Sky 

O O M E Twinkle, Twinkle, little star, telescope is a big 
people How I wonder what you are tube with a thick 


smile when 
they hear that simple rhyme. Just 
two kinds of people say it seri¬ 
ously—very wise men and very 
little children. Little folks have 
Tx ™ ,, curiosity and imagi- 

What Your . . , 

,,c Big Eyes ” nation. And wise men 
Do for You are careful not to lose 
these precious things when they 
grow up. It is round-eyed wonder 
that has found out all the beauti¬ 
ful secrets of the earth and sky. 

The first thing in the sky at 
which you wondered was the 
moon. Did you ask mama to get 
it for you ? You thought it was 
in the tops of the trees. Then 
you saw it was ’way, 'way up, a 
golden ball. 

t 

No Wonder the Moon Is So Neighborly 

The moon is our nearest sky 
neighbor, for it is only two hun¬ 
dred and forty thousand miles 
away! The sun is ninety-three 
million miles distant! We can 
learn many things about the sun, 
moon and farthest stars by 
looking through a telescope. A 


glass eye at the end. 
It is like the lens in grandpapa’s 
spectacles, only it may be forty to 
sixty inches wide. 

Day and Night on the Moon 

The moon is the lonesomest 
place! It has no air, no water, no 
forests, no birds or flowers or lit¬ 
tle boys and girls. There is no- 

Where NoMy h ° A y. at h °. me and 
Is Ever nothing going on. 

"At Home Day and night are 

each two weeks long and our earth 

looks like a big moon from there. 

The moon is a globe of burned 

out fires—cold and dead. 

Who “The Man in the Moon” Really Is 

A walk on the moon would be 
over stony deserts, or along bare 
mountains, through pitch black 
valleys. You would stumble into 
deep holes. The jolly face of the 
man-in-the-moo.n is made up of 
mountain ranges and their shad¬ 
ows, deep ring scars miles wide, 
and great level plains. 

Don’t you wonder why the 


295 



















































































^iiiiiil!lll!llliliiii!iiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiilii(iiiiii!iiiiiiiiii!iiiiliiiiiiiiii!iiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE IIWIIIIUIUI^ 



The lamp is the Sun, in the center of the 
Moon’s orbit is the Earth and the balls show 
the Moon in its various positions. Note the 
new moon, second quarter, third quarter and 
full moon. 


Why Shiny 
Shoes are 
Like the 
JVtoon 


moon can shine with such a soft 
light? There are two ways in which 
things can shine. A lamp flame 
glows with its own light. A looking 
glass reflects the flame. The moon 
is a mirror for the sun. 
Our earth is another 
mirror. A grain of dust 
in a sunbeam, a polished 
table-top or stove, or polished shoes 
all reflect light. A vapor cloud is a 
beautiful mirror, and so is a pool of 
quiet water. Some of the stars in 
the sky are suns, shining by their 
own light. Some are dark globes of 
planets and moons; some glowing 
vapors and whirling masses of star 
dust. 


How the Earth “Leads” the Moon 

The moon circles around the earth 
| and moves with it around the sun. 
| It is like a little dog led by a string. 

The string is the pulling 
power of gravity. The 
moon pulls back, but 
cannot break loose. So 
| the sun pulls the earth, and the earth 
| pulls away, like a ball on the end of 

jjlllllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 


§§ But It. 

M Isn 't the 
H “Dog 
§j Star’’ 


a whirling string and so, like the | 
other stars, is kept in its track. 

What Makes the Moon’s Changes 

The only side of the moon that can g 
shine is the side facing the sun. Once | 
every month it comes between the | 
earth and sun and we 1 


Such a 
World 
Traveler! 


its shining 
In a day or 


cannot see 
face at all. 

two we can see the nar¬ 
row, western edge of it, gleaming 
like a crescent of pearl. Every eve¬ 
ning, as the moon moves eastward, 
farther from the sun, we see more of 
it. In two weeks the full moon 
comes up in the east, after sunset. 
Then the western edge is darkened. 
It takes the moon four weeks to 
travel around the earth. Except 
near the time of the month when we 
have a new moon or a full moon, we 
can sometimes see the moon in the 
day time. 

We cannot look at the sun except 
through dark gray or smoked glass¬ 
es. It blinds the eyes with its glare. 

The heat of the sun is 
What the greater than any heat we 

Jun Opots J 

Told Us are able to make on 
earth. It is thousands of 
times bigger than the earth, but is 
not solid. It is an e-nor-mous ball of 
glowing vapors or gases. Scarlet 
flames, thousands of miles high, leap 
up and roll around the sun, topped 
by crimson clouds. In places the 
sun sputters, as when water falls into 
a kettle of hot lard. This makes 
dark spots that seem to move across 
its face eastward, disappear and re¬ 
turn on the western edge. By watch¬ 
ing the sunspots astronomers have 
learned that the sun whirls from 
west to east, just as the earth and 
moon do. It takes the sun twenty- 
five days to turn around once. It is 
now thought that the sun-spots are 




296 



^niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiN OUR NEIGHBORS IN THE SKY iiiHnumiiiiiiiiiiiiimiwiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiRiniiiiiuiMiimi: 


How You Can Measure the Moon 





lit Warn 


Most people think only very learned men with complicated instruments can measure the 
moon, but any bright boy can do it for himself—especially if he has a little sister by to play she 
is helping him. First, make a small frame, as shown in the illustration, with the two edges three 
or four inches apart. Place the frame, some evening about two or three hours after moonrise, on 
the railing of the veranda. Then, looking through the frame, move back until the moon seems 
to just fill it. Carefully locate the position of your eye, by taking a table and placing a book 
on it, then moving table and book back until the corner of the book just touches your eye as you 
see the moon through the frame. Next, take a cord that will not stretch and measure the dis¬ 
tance from the corner of the book to the lower edge of the frame. Measure also the distance 
between the edges of the frame. The distance to the moon is 239,000 miles. If you have reached 
Proportion in your study of Arithmetic you can now measure the moon, for the distance from 
your eye to the frame is to the distance between the edges of the frame as the distance to the 
moon (239,000 miles) is to the diameter of the moon. 


| made by cool vapors falling in. And 
| whew, how windy and hot! For 
| these vapors are whirled in great 
| electric cyclones, or circular storms, 


like our wind storms on earth 

How We Got to Know Mr. Sun 

We learn about the sun by study 


297 







^Illllllllllll!!lllllllllll!llllllll!ll!llllll!llllllll!lll!l!!ll!lllllllll!ll!ll!!lllll!l PICTURED 

| ing his photograph and, through the 
1 spectrum, his light rays. The moon 

also helps by coming be- 
| How tween the sun and the 

I "introduced Us earth ' Then - a11 ar0UIld 

1 the edge of the black 

| moon that covers the center, is a co- 
| rona of light, of delicate pearly 
| white, with red jewels of clouds in it. 
| From that long banners stream away 



This is a photograph of the flames on the sun 
shooting up 50,000 miles—over four times the 
earth’s thickness. 


KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii™ 

into space. Eclipses are photo- | 
graphed. The light rays are caught | 
in glass prisms and spread into rain- | 
bow bands of color. 

Why the Sun Is Your Grandfather 

Did you know that our good j 
Mother Earth is one of the sun’s | 
children? The sun has a family of | 

big and little planets. | 
The Ring Each one travels on j 

His Circus a different circle, at j 

a different speed. j 
The sun, in the middle, is like a j 
ring-master in an eight-ring | 
circus. He cracks his whip and | 
his planets, with their tagging j 
moons, gallop around their tracks. j 
The earth is on the third track, j 
We can see six of the brother j 
and sister planets, that circle j 
with us around the sun, without j 
a telescope. | 


Mother Earth’s Traveling Companions 


J UPITER and Saturn go around 
the sun in circles much larger 
than the earth’s. They move slowly 
among the stars chang- 
Christmas i n g position but little 

Ottr E Ye7r! f TOm ni g ht t0 ni g ht 
Mercury has the small¬ 
est track, nearest the sun. It goes 
around four times in one of our 
years. It flits in and out of our sky 
like a fire-fly. Mercury and Venus 
are seen only in the morning and 
evening sky, never at midnight. It 
takes Venus nearly twenty-three, and 
Mars twenty-three months to make 
the circuit. 

The Beautiful Queen of Night 

Sometime you will see Venus 
above the sun, after sunset. Such a 
beauty! She was named Venus for 


the queen of beauty. A glittering 
gem, truly “like a diamond in the 
sky,” part of her brightness is due 
to vapor clouds. As Ve- 
As Beau- nus is between us and the 
^usic s un she, like our Lady 

Moon, shows her vari¬ 
ous phases as she mounts the sky, 
moving eastward among the stars. 
When this sparkling point of light 
appears, with the pearly sickle of the 
new moon, on the azure sky of early 
evening, their beauty makes you 
catch your breath, as when you hear 
a strain of lov_ely music. 

Our Nearest “Uncle” 

You can see a thing best when the 
light shines on it over your shoulder. 
Mars is on the next circle outside the 
earth’s, so we turn our backs to the 


8iiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii[iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii™ 


298 





OUR NEIGHBORS IN THE SKY 


sun to look at it. 
Of all the sun’s 

chil- 

Mayhe d r 6 n 

People Live i 

There, Too Only 

Venus 
is nearer than this 
dull red planet 
Through a tele¬ 
scope we can see 
great dark and 
yellow areas, pos¬ 
sibly fields and 
deserts, lines 
thought to mark 
canals of water, 
white ice-caps at 
the poles, two 
moons and vapor 


Venus is in the sky, 
l b, Jupiter is the 

bright- 

fv * - , Why Jupiter cst of 

is Like a , , 

: . - » Tea Kettle t h C 

^ ’ m planets. 

€ ;V H 11 crosses the 
1 % h * * I southern sky, high 

" ' * If up. bke the head- 

, ht; ■ light nl an engine. 

; m m It has nine moons, 

. *. ■ wf four of which can 

h ; ':vr ■ be seen through a 

Jr very small tele- 

scope. Saturn has 
three bright, 
ir Largest of His moon-like rings. 

1S It is thought to be 

just a big globe of glowing gas, with 
rings of star-dust. 

The reason why we can find the 


If Saturn Should Fall Into the Sea 


Saturn is merely a mass of hot gas and if he should fall into a sea big enough to hold 
he would float like a big cork. 

planets among the thousands of 
stars in the sky, is because they are 

Grouting wanderers; bright vis- 
of itors coming and going 

The Worlds amon g the other stars. 

All the others that we can see are 
in fixed groups. As the earth makes its 


big, young, hot world. It may be all 
fluid, melted rocks and water, as 

Uncle Miter 0Ur e3rth W3S when !t 
and His was young. This planet 

Nine Moons j s ag p US y making steamy 

vapors as a singing tea kettle on a 
hot stove. Except when beautiful 






PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


M 


journey around the sun, it finds these 
star-groups in the same places every 

How the Little Bear Trots Around the 
Pole Star 



= Find 
H the 'Fig 
= Bear and 


H Here we see how the Little Bear swings 
around the Pole Star as the positions of 
= the constellations change in the heavens. 

| year, as if they were painted, or 
| studded like jewels on the sky. 

1 An Easy Group to Find 

The easiest star-group, or constel- 
| lation, for you to find is the Big 
| Bear, or Dipper. It is always in the 

north. The two stars on 
the outer edge of the cup 
= „ .. point to the polar star. 

| H,s Family ^ ^ ^ ^ 

| the handle of the little dipper. Op- 
| posite the big dipper is Cassiopeia’s 
| chair of six stars. These three star- 
| groups appear to circle around the 
| polar star every night, and every 

| year. 

All the stars appear to move from 
| east to west, just as the sun does. 
1 x’rrri ■, But it is really the earth 

I Why the J 

1 Stars Seem that turns Irom west to 

I to . to east, leaving sun and 

I stars behind. Outside 

| of these three groups near the polar 

| star, is a larger circle of constella- 

| tions. A still larger one crosses the 

| sky, a little south of overhead, in the 


path of the sun. It is there you 
should look for the planets. 

Strange Fancies of the Ancients 

There are eighty-nine of these 
star-groups. Centuries ago people 
fancied that certain constellations 
had the outlines of ani- 
‘_Seemg mals. Some of them 

at Night were named for the 

bear, the dog, lion, bull, 
dragon, scorpion. Other clusters 
were called the twins, the crown, the 
lyre. And some were named for 
great heroes and heroines, like Her¬ 
cules, Perseus, Orion, Cassiopeia and 
Andromeda. Then the moon was 
called the car of Diana, queen of 
the night and huntress of the skies. 
The sun was the fiery chariot of 
Apollo. The planets were named 
for the gods of the Greeks. 

Some star-groups are easier to 
find than others, because of the 
bright stars in them. Sirius, the dog 
A ‘“Dog” s t ar > in the big dog 
Bigger group, is the brightest 

Su™ ° Ur star * n s ky* It is a 
blazing white sun, many 
times larger than our sun, but much 
farther away. You can see it, low 
in the south, in mid-winter, or above 
the rising sun in August. Vega is a 
beautiful blue-white sun in the small 
lyre group. In July evenings it is 
nearly overhead. Arcturus is a yel¬ 
low sun, in the south in summer. 

Where the Comet Gets Its Tail 

When the papers report that a 
comet is coming you should watch 
for it. A comet is a starry wanderer 
with a shining tail. The tail is 

Why the made ° f Va P° rS > ° r of 

Comet dust blown out of the 

Switches comet by the force of 

Its Tail ,1 , 

the sun s rays. The tail 

always points from the sun, switch¬ 
ing around to the other side when 




v 

*« 


300 








Did you know there are twin stars as well as twin people? Another strange and beautiful thing 
about these twin or “double stars,” as they are called, is that they have many colors. All of 
these apparent double stars are really very far away from each other—sometimes millions of miles 
apart. They appear double because they are so nearly in a straight line with the earth. 

In the Great Bear, 1, is a pretty yellow star with a greenish-white companion. On the left, 2, 
in Andromeda, is a rich golden-yellow star with a blue companion. To the right of this, 3’ in 
Cassiopeia, is a yellow star with a purple one by its side. In Bootes, 4, is a greenish-white star 
with a steely blue companion. In the same constellation, at 5, is the largest and one of the most 
beautiful double stars in the heavens. The larger one is a bright yellow; its companion is of a 
clear sapphire blue. Below this, in 5, is another double star—one yellow, the other a bright red. At 
6 in the constellation of the Swan we find a reddish-yellow star with a light blue companion. To 
the right, 7, in Hercules are two more, a pale yellow star accompanied by a reddish one. At 8 in 
Ophiuchus is a pretty yellow star with a faint bluish companion, and in the same constellation, at 1U, 
is another yellow star with a deep red companion. At 9, in Aquilla, the Eagle, is a small yellowish 
star with a reddish companion. Below that, in Capricornus, is a large golden-yellow star with a 
light blue companion. 


♦ ♦ 


OUR NEIGHBORS IN THE SKY 


i« 


I Story of the Constellations 

IVhy did not somebody teach me the constellations and make me at home in the 1 
I starry heavens which are always overhead and zvhich I do not know to this day ? i 
H — Carlyle. ——^— = 


NORTH 




• • :si 

; HI*, 

•. : •.*« 


\ . y 

r 


/ *, » 

.. ( .. * / 

\ \ J , 
* W . f; 

\ '"Vv» «#" 


/ iNk 

f \ 

**wv 


k 


/ * * \ V ' 

l y * V / 

mv / / i/* 

V *// 


I V ^ ip 
.«#>•<. Ks / 


>. A *. •"** % ’ 


m y 


POLE STAR 

4V\^y 








> x yS 


j * 

V* i 




:/ as*. 


n.T N 


\» 


•/ /> 


vl,. Vi 
v\. •: x.-:-y 

j >. 


CO * x. 


I V . 

: v-■?•....■• 
fei"" 

;• » ...A . 

>• -• 




-* 7 *4 

* / * t-' • 





'-Or 'A X-- 

jt 

N_ 


/ /-^r .% * * 

IP* } ^ a 

*Vt 

/ v: ; |^ ‘ 

'-*//•: 1 k >— 

'•3t/ / S- V . ..-c "C-Ml A 



' # v ‘w my 

/V 


a /->, y.t 


// / ? 

- n 


^” 4 V5*. _> J '<? 

\\£i ' 

♦ A /i.iyx 

/••VJ • \ ■. - , 

.. ..m* \ 


! \ V-, 

•• i. ,» i 


‘-o'.. ... \ \ !•/ •' / / ■■’ 

* -^s ^ . 4 

! cK\ ■&# ".■•- 

Aijfr .y v/ * 

lim?*..-- ••. - 1 . \y 

'T \ 

x •.-.. -.V;.i - . 

V Wv>V * * 

: -‘ .. > J 

• J <■ " ; ' u.. • 


SOUTH 


On the Great Bear’s left, the man with the whip is Auriga, the Charioteer. He is carrying Capella, s 
1 the Goat, who nursed Baby Jupiter. Perseus, with his shield, carries the head of Medusa of the Snaky || 
s Locks and is about to rescue the beautiful Andromeda, who is chained to a rock. In the chair is Cas- = 

1 siopeia, mother of Andromeda, who after Andromeda’s rescue was chained to her chair and swung round = 

= and round the pole. This constellation is the well-known “W” which you can easily find. By Cas- = 
§j siopeia’s feet is her husband, Cepheus, King of Ethiopia. Only the head and forelegs of Pegasus, the §| 

H Winged Horse, are represented in the sky. The Sea Goat with the fish’s tail, is Capricornus. On the §f 

h right of the picture, Bootes carries his sickle, herdsman’s crook. Next is Hercules with his club. Below = 
H Hercules is Ophiuchus, the Serpent Bearer. Near the center of the sky is the Swan. Next is the |§ 
s Winged Lyre and below Aquila, the Eagle, carries Ganymede to Jupiter to be his cup-bearer. It takes M 
= nearly ten years for light to travel from Albireo, the star in the swan’s head, to the earth, so you will s 
= not see this star as it is when you look at it, but as it was ten years previous. 1 


i«£ 


301 




a 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


»,« 


Through the Astronomer’s Great Spy Glass 


These pictures show a star cluster and a nebula as you see them when you look at them 
through a big telescope. Just imagine you are that young man studying them through that 
great “spy glass.” 


= a Star 


What Is a Shooting Star? 

Sometimes a rock, or meteor, or 
even a shower of meteors, strikes the 
earth’s atmosphere. They melt and 

When the hash across the sky as 

Earth is shooting stars. Some 

“ Shot by fa.ll to the earth and 
make holes, for they hit 
like bullets. That gives one expla¬ 
nation of the big, round holes on the 
plains of the moon. They have long 
been thought to be volcano craters. 
But another theory was that the 
moon was pelted by great hot me¬ 
teors weighing tons, that struck it 
like cannon balls. 

The Milky River of Stars 

And the Milky Way—that pearly 
path that straggles across the sky. 
It is just what it looks to be—a wide 


river of countless stars set close to¬ 
gether, and so far out in space that 
Wl at they can just send us 

that faint light. On 
either side of it is a 
dark band, where there 
are few stars. Stars seem to cluster, 
or draw together, in some places in 
the sky, forming the groups we have 
mentioned while in other places there 


Makes 

Stars 

Cluster 




v: 


| the sun is passed. Then this tail dis- 
| appears, like the tail of a tadpole 
j when the tadpole turns into a frog. 
| All suns may be blowing dust out of 
| small bodies that get too near them, 
| for there is star-dust, and even 
| rocks, all through space. 


302 








11111111111111111 OUR NEIGHBORS IN THE SKY iiiiimraHmiiimiiiumiiiuiniiiimiiiiiimiimiiiiiimiiiiiiiim^ 

These sky spaces 
settled,” one 


are 
may say. 

Do Starry Worlds Capture Each Other? 

It has long been thought that our 
sun and all its planets were once one 
whirling mass of fire, vapor and 
How New star-dust; that the cen- 
WorJJs tral fire shrank in on it- 
are Wade self, and the outer rings 

broke up into planets. Another 


Wonderful Glasses Astronomers Wear 

Like weather men astronomers 
have many instruments. Their tools 
are all explorers of space. Tele- 

Seemg Many sco P es can find stars that 
Thousand are located countless mil- 
Milhon Miles ]i ons 0 f miles away! 

Stars are caught with telescopes, re- 


su^mer 

SUNSET 


WINTER 

'SUNSET 


WEST 


WINTER 

SUNRISE 


SUMMER 
SUNRISE 

Here is shown the position of the sun at noon in winter, spring and summer. On the hill to the 
right is an astronomical observatory. 

explanation offered was that the fleeted in mirrors, and the images 
sun hurled big and little pieces are photographed. Light rays are 
of itself out, to form planets, and split up into colors, and made to tell 
the planets made their moons by what substances are in a star; 
similar explosions. Another possi- whether a star is a solid, a vapor, a 
bility is that the sun, with its pull- gas or a mass of star-dust, 
ing power, captured the planets that What do you think is the most in- 
were wandering in space. Then the teresting thing in the sky to an as- 
planets captured the moons. Our tronomer? It is a patch of cloudy 
moon may be a dead planet, as it light that you might not notice at 
looks to be. The earth is still cap- all. These patches are called nebu- 



IP' 

■M nrfr giggS 

A; 


, 7- - v #’ SB 

MW 1 


303 



♦♦ 


| lae. “Nebulous” means misty. Most 
| of them are spirals of glowing gas, 
| vapor or dust, whirling around a 
| starry center. It is now thought that 
| all suns and planets began as nebu- 
| las. By studying them it is hoped to 
| find the secret of the skies—how 
| worlds and suns are all the time be¬ 
ll ing made and unmade. 


The Old Myth Stories of the Stars 

| Before the days of books the sky 
| was a great story and picture book. 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

which serpents are twining. Over 
his shoulders is the skin of the 
Nemean Lion, the killing of which 
was one of his famous Labors. 
Bo-6-tes, the Hunter and Herdsman, 
is pursuing the Great Bear with 
his dogs. The dog with his feet in the 
air is the Greater Dog, and the 
star near the end of his nose is one 
of the most brilliant in the heavens. 
Not many people know that the 
Great Bear and the Great Dipper 


** 


I The sun, moon, star-groups, planets are one - The Great Bear was 




| and brightest sun-stars, were heroes 
| of many a tale, or the dwelling 
| places of the gods. These myths 
| grew out of religious beliefs, so they 
| were beautiful and poetic. 

| In the artist’s Story of the Con- 
| stellations he tells you some 
| of the most famous of these 
| myths. In the 

I yt t , heading of this 

= o tones the r 

I Stars Tell story of our sky 

| neighbors many 

| other interesting stories are 
| told. You can see where 
| Juno has sent the Crab to 
| annoy Hercules by pinching 
| his toes. Juno, like many of 
| the other gods and 
| goddesses, had a dis- 


once a beautiful woman, Callisto. 
Juno, jealous of her beauty, changed 
her son into a Little Bear and 
put them both in the sky. But 
that hateful Juno fixed it so they 
could never approach one an¬ 
other and so they wander 
about the pole always in 
sight but always the same 
distance from one another. 
The constellations-shown 
on page 303 are as 
they appear at 10 
P. M., August 23; 
9 P. M., September 
8; 8 P. M, 


| agreeable disposi- 
| tion. She was 
| always doing 
| ugly things 
i to annov 

ss * 

| people she 
| didn’t like. 

| In his right 
| hand Her- 
| cules holds 
j his big club 
| and in his 
| left a branch 

d 



= a r o u n 


by means of the electric switch box which you see 
in the chair, the astronomer controls the motions of the 
telescope so as to keep it fixed on the objects he is 
looking at. 


S eptember 
23. Lying 
on your back 
holding the 
picture be¬ 
fore you in 
such a way 
that north 
points north, 
study one 
c o nstellation 
at a time 
and then go 
out and lo¬ 
cate it in the 
sky. 
















































































Long, Long Journey 



TO URANUS 


TO MERCURY 


TO NEPTUNE 


TO SATURN 


TO JUPITER 


90,000,000 
HR.—3 


Ml. AN 
HRS. 


66,960,000 Ml. AN 
HR.— 2/z HRS. 


889 Ml. 
905/2 


AN HR. 
YRS. 


736!/ 2 Ml. AN HR. 
6 O /2 YRS. 


725/3 Ml. AN HR. 
‘ 90 YRS. 




Here you see the planets as they appear through a 
telescope; Venus with a few hazy marks. Mars with 
others that scientists think may be canals. You read¬ 
ily recognize Saturn by his rings. 

Venus is the brightest star we have and is always 
seen near the horizon just after sunset. Mercury looks 
like a rather bright star, but is always twinkling vio¬ 
lently—like the eyes of a laughing boy. None of the 
ether planets twinkle. This helps us to distinguish the 
planets from the fixed stars without the aid of a tele¬ 


scope. Uranus is just on the limit of visibility with 
out a telescope. He can only be seen during the sum 
mer months if one knows just where to look. Nep 
tune is so far away that he is never visible to th' 
naked eye. 

The nearer planets, Venus, Mercury and Mars 
show phases similar to the moon. The planets tha 
are farther away, though, show the phases very fainth 
—some not at all. Jupiter, although the Earth’s Big 
gest Brother, whirls much faster than the earth. I 

















to Distant Worlds 



► only takes about ten hours for Jupiter to whirl 
around once, while Venus, the Rarth s Little 
Sister, whirls very slowly, requiring 225 days. 
Mercury and Venus both rotate so slow¬ 
ly that part of their surfaces never re¬ 
ceive the sun’s light. Three-eighths 
t| of Mercury is always in darkness. 

“ Three-eighths of it has perpetual 
sunshine, while one-fourth is alter¬ 
nately in sunshine and shadow. 


177 YRS. 




































• 

. 


- - ' 










^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii OUR NEIGHBORS IN THE SKY iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih $ 


The Wind and the Moon 


Said the Wind to the Moon, “I will blow yon out; 

You stare in the air 
Like a ghost in a chair. 

Always looking what I am about — 

/ hate to be watched; I’ll blow you out.” 

The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon. 

So, deep on a heap 
Of clouds to sleep, 

Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon, 

Muttering low, “I’ve done for that Moon.” 

He turned in his bed; she was there again! 

On high in the sky, 

With her one ghost eye, 

The Moon shone white and alive and plain. 

Said the Wind, “I will blow you out again.” 

The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grezv dim. 

“With my sledge and my wedge, 

I have knocked off her edge! 

If only I blovo right fierce and grim, 

The creature will soon be dimmer than dim.” 

He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread. 

“One puff more’s enough 
To blozv her to snuff! 

One good puff more where the last w'as bred. 

And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the thread.” 

He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone. 

I71 the air, nowhere 
Was a moonbeam bare; 

Far off and harmless the shy stars shone — 

Sure and certain the Moon was gone! 

The Wind he took to his revels once more; 

On down, in town, 

Like a merry-made clown, 

He leaped and halloed with whistle and roar — 

“ What’s that?” The glimmering thread once more! 

Slozvly she grew—till she filled the night, 

And shone on her throne 
In the sky alone, 

A matchless, wonderful silvery light, 

Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night. 

Said the Wind: "What a marvel of power am I! 

With my breath, good faith! 

I blew her to death — 

First blew her azrny right out of the sky— 

Then blew her in; what strength have I!” 

But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair; 

For high in the sky, 

With her one zvhitc eye. 

Motionless, miles above the air, 

She had never heard the great Wind blare. 

—George Macdonald. 




305 


IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM 

A Great Curtain in the Sky 



No form of the aurora is more strange and striking than what is known as the “auroral curtain.” 
And stranger still, as new folds are formed in one direction the curtain vanishes away in another. 
First it comes in varied rays of light, and then these imperceptibly fade away. 

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin 


306 










A URORA means light In 
old Greek myths Aurora 
was the rosy goddess of morning. 
Boreal means “of the north”— 
northern lights. “Aurora Aus- 
tralias” is astronomy language 
for “southern lights.” Both are 
often called polar lights. But 
this is not correct. The wonder¬ 
ful plays of light are not seen 
near the poles but along latitudes 
70 to 60. About once every elev¬ 
en years they are seen as low as 
40. The long, dreary nights of 
Arctic winter are often relieved 
by quivering sheets, moving pil- 


• 7 _s 1 




lars, fluttering curtains and 
streamers, and rayed arches of 
brilliant sunset colors that mantle 
the sky and illuminate the snowy 
, landscape for hours at 

Comf>ass a time. They are 
gets Excited m0 st often seen be¬ 
fore or after violent storms, when 
there is an electric disturbance. 
The magnetic needle in the com¬ 
pass, too, is unsteady during the 
display. Benjamin Franklin 
thought the northern lights were 
caused by discharges of electric¬ 
ity. Spectrum analysis indicates 
that auroras may be glowing 


THE HOW AND WHY 
OF COMMON THINGS 

AURORA BOREALIS 


The Mysterious Lights 
of the Frozen North 

















































































































































liillillllliiiililli 



«I1 


...min ...... PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 11 

Another Form of the Curtain Aurora 



“The long dreary nights of Arctic winter are often relieved by quivering sheets, moving pillars, 
fluttering curtains and streamers, and rayed arches of brilliant sunset colors that mantle the !sky 
and illuminate the snowy landscape for hours at a time.” 


Fourth of July Every Night 



“How would you like to live—or, at least, spend a little while—in the Land of the Eskimo, 
where you could see such grand ‘fireworks?’ The Eskimo takes the same delight in them as if he 
were always a child.” 


308 


..mi...Illllllllllllllll...Illlllllllllllll.I...illllllllllll!ll!lllll!lllllll!lllllllll...Illlllllll...I...I.lilllllllllllllllllllllllllllill...III!.ll|||||||i!llll|||||||||||||||||||i:*: 















^IIIIIIIIIIII!!IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!IIII!!I!1IIIIIIIIII!!II|||||||!IIII!!I||||||||||||||||||!IIIIIIII|||II| AURORA BOREALIS IIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIW^ 


gases. 1 hey are seen more frequent¬ 
ly when large spots appear on the 
sun, which, it is now thought, are 
caused by electric cyclones. Astrono¬ 
mers are much interested in auroras 
for they seem to be mixed up with 
the weather of the earth and the sun. 

How would you like to live in the 
land of the Eskimo, where you 
could see such grand “fireworks”? 
The Eskimo takes the same delight 
in them as if he were 
always a child. 

In the picture at 
the head of this 
article he is sail¬ 
ing by the light of 
the aurora in his 
kayak and he has 
his eye on that 
walrus just ahead 
of him. The Eski¬ 
mo in his kayak is 
a match for any 
walrus. And how 
he can manage 
that kayak! It 
makes no difference 
to him if he turns up¬ 
side down or if his head 
gets into the water. He 
immediately rights himself, 
kayak is waterproof, and some Eski¬ 
mos become so expert in the use of it 
that they can turn complete somer¬ 
saults in the water—as easily as a 


“bird man” can turn over in his fly¬ 
ing machine. Getting into a kayak is 
much the same as mounting a bron¬ 
cho. He brings it up alongside of a 
stone or cake of ice and steps ginger¬ 
ly in. If there is nothing on which to 
mount, he crawls along the kayak 
until he comes to his seat. Getting 
out of a kayak is worse than trying 
to undress in the upper berth of a 
sleeper, going at the rate of sixty 
miles an hour. Those ice¬ 
bergs you see are about 
s e v e n-eighths of 
their mass in the 
water. They have 
been known to 
measure two and 
one-half miles in 
length and as 
much in w i d t h. 
Such a mass of ice 
weighs about two 
thousand million 
tons, or enough to 
make three hundred thirty 
pyramids of Egypt. 

This is how icebergs are 
born : The snow falls and 
freezes until in many places 
it is ten thousand feet deep. 
This snow is very heavy and is nat¬ 
urally squeezed out at the edges. 
Advancing into the water it is raised 
bv its own buoyancy and soon breaks 


off in these monstrous masses. 


In the North behold a flushing ; then o deep and crimson blushing; 

Followed bv on airy rushing of the purple waves that rise! 

As when armed host advances, see, a silver banner dances, 

And a thousand golden lances shimmer in the Boreal skies! 

The vision slozvly dies! 

-Joseph Kearney Foran 



The Serpent Aurora 

Sometimes the Aurora 
takes the form of 
a fiery serpent. 

The 





Ships of all Nations Answe 



In October, 1913, when fire broke out on the Volturno, a two-thousand-ton vess< 
help was sent out. The fire was caused by the explosion of some chemicals in tf 
plosion occurred at 6:50 a. m. At 11 that same morning the Carmania arrived i 
Volturno, dispatching life boats and pouring out oil to calm the heavy seas so th; 
but without the wireless the loss of life would have been much greater. 


















ig a Wireless Call for Help 




KSOONLAND 


< ich was carrying Russian and Polish immigrants to Canada, a wireless call for 
r!d. It reached the upper deck, and soon the whole ship was in flames. The ex- 
ponse to the message of the wireless. Soon ten other vessels surrounded the 
f life savers could make headway. Not all those aboard the Volturno were saved, 


311 












PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


THE 

mxmm mmcKm 




312 


lllll!llllllllllllllll!llllllllllllllllllllllll!llllll!lllllllllllllillllllllll!lllllllllllllllllllllll!llll!lllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllllllllllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!!!l!ll*<2 




























































§ 









mm-'- 


IN THE GREAT 
WO RLD OF NAT URE 

THE WINDS AND THE WEATHER 






A Visit to 


The Man With a Hundred Eyes 



"'HE artist has told so much of 
-*■ the weather story in his inter¬ 
esting picture that we were really 
afraid we wouldn’t get to talk to 
you at all, because there wouldn’t 
be anything left for us to say! 

Myth Stories of the Weather 

You see he begins with the most 
ancient thing about the weather 
—the weather myths. Weather is 
such a tre-men-dous thing that 
men have always been interested 
in it and wondered about it and 
tried to account for it. 

The Chinese, as you see by the 
quaint old rain gauge with the 
Chinese characters on it, meas¬ 
ured rainfall very much as we do 
with our rain gauge of today. 
(The Chinese weatherman’s gauge 
looks like a tea chest, doesn’t it?) 

On the left in the sky is Thor, 
god of thunder. According to 
Norse mythology he was the “It” 
that rained and the 
WTta* a thunder was the noise 

J\Lojse , . i i • 

Thor Made! his chariot made in 
rolling through the 
clouds—like the noise of a lum¬ 
ber wagon going over a wooden 
bridge. On the right is the sun 
god as the Greeks and, after 
them, the Romans, thought of 
him. They could see what great 
things the sun does in bringing 
back the seasons and making 
things grow, but they didn’t even 
suspect that he, with the aid of 
the winds, which he also helps to 
keep going, is one of the most 


Children 

Dancing 


TV 





important parts of the “It” that 
makes it rain. 

Waltz of the Winds 

But now let’s see if we can’t 
discover the real truth about the 
weather and the winds it rides on 
from what there is in 
Hafcfo the picture. Which 

way is the little wind 
sprite blowing that 
you see just in advance of Thor? 
Now, which way is the wind 
blowing that is driving the ship 
toward the cliff? In just the op¬ 
posite direction. And yet this is 
all one and the same wind. “How 
can the same wind be blowing in 
two opposite directions at the 
same time?” you ask, puzzled. 
And no wonder, for it puzzled the 
scientific men for a long time; 
until our wise Benjamin Franklin 
suspected the truth, which is that 
the winds move just like two hap¬ 
py little people waltzing across a 
room—turning round and round 
and moving forward at the same 
time. So Franklin had friends 
in different parts of the country 
note the direction of the wind at 
a given hour on a given day. 
Then he put all these directions 
down on a diagram very much as 
you see in those queer little marks 
that look like darting water bugs 
on the weatherman’s map. And, 
sure enough, when he came to 
connect all these directions it 
made a circle—although not a 
perfect circle. Later in this 




« . 






NS 




































































tv 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


vt 


story we will tell you how these im¬ 
mense wind wheels are formed. 

Notice on the horizon back of the 
sea the sand columns in the desert. 
These are formed by whirling winds. 
cn wr- j They are like the little 
and the dust columns that go 

Sphinx's whirling over the dry 

country roads in summer 
time. Notice how the camels are 
hurrying away, for this is one of the 
terrible desert storms called simoons. 
And there sits the sphinx, gazing 
with his mysterious eyes across the 
desert. On another page you can 
come closer to Mr. Sphinx and see 
where these same desert winds have 
carried away his nose by flinging 
sand against it for centuries and 
centuries. 

The Weather Man and the Frogs 

Tell you about the old man and 
his dunce cap? The dunce cap is 
really the cap worn by ancient wise 
^ men called astrologers, 

Queer who used to undertake 

“ ‘Dunce" to foretell the weather 
Ca ^ by reading the stars. 

When they put such caps on the 
heads of boys who didn’t get their 
lessons it was meant to be sarcastic. 
Here the playful fancy of the artist 
has shown one of these ancient 
weathermen explaining to a group 
of frogs the meaning of the weather 
map. Of course frogs are interested 
in the weather. The rain-frogs 
often talk about it. The Weather Man 
is illustrating what he says with a 
weather map showing the great Gal¬ 
veston cyclone. He points with one 
hand to the region in which the 
hurricane began and with the other 
hand, to the record of the barome¬ 
ter, that wonderful device by which 
the storm guest writes his name on 


the register hours and hours before 
he arrives. 

No wonder the frog with the 
glasses looks alarmed! I’ll warrant 
you that he didn’t know before that 
the weather that keeps the pond 
filled up and brings down the fresh, 
sweet rain drops that he loves so 
well could do such a ter-ri-ble thing 
as make cyclones and hurricanes. 

Notice the globe on which an¬ 
other frog is sitting and how the ar¬ 
rows are whirling around the pole. 

These arrows are saying 
5Vfor<? Things th a t the winds have a 

are Telling regular path around the 
pole where they keep 
going round and round like the 
horses in a circus. The frog who is 
carrying the rule is telling us that 
the Weather Man, in making his pre¬ 
dictions, takes into consideration the 
height of clouds. The frog at the 
telephone tells us that the Weather 
Man gets weather news from all over 
the country and puts it together to 
find out what is going to happen 
next. That is why we call him “the 
man with the hundred eyes.” He sees 
with the eyes of other weather men 
scattered all over the country who 
report to Washington and other 
weather predicting centers. 

Other Things the Picture Tells 

The picture also shows the kind 
of barometer in which a little man 
comes out with an umbrella if it is 
going to rain and a lady comes out 
with a parasol if it is going to be 
fair weather. Near by is a duck 
watching the instrument which tells 
how fast the moisture is evaporating. 
Notice the scale with which this 
evaporation is measured—just as a 
grocer measures sugar. 

On the house is a weather vane— 
such as you see on people’s barns. 
It shows the direction of the wind 


♦V 


:: 


314 


4 




THE WINDS AND THE WEATHER 


| and below it the instrument which 
| shows how fast the wind is blowing. 
| It looks like a whirligig turned 
| wrong-side up, doesn’t it? The cups 
| on the end of it are to catch the 
| wind. And now that I have point- 
| ed out so many things in this “mov- 
| ing picture,” see if you can find for 
| yourself where Father Robin is 
| making an umbrella of his wings 
I to shelter Mama 


Tools for 
Taking the 
^Weather 
Afiart 


Robin and the 
babies. Papa 
Robins do do this 
very thing! 

How Did the Weather 
Man Know? 

“It’s going to 
rain.” So said the 
Weather Man in 
weather language. 

How did the 
weather ma n 
know? 

Friday was a 
beautiful Autumn 
day, with 


I COUNT THE RAINDROPS 



This is a rain gauge with which scientific ob¬ 
servers measure the amount of rain that falls 
Soft, during a given time. That little bent tube pre- 

, vents the water from evaporating before it is , . .. 

hazy Sunshine and measured. When the last drops have run out of lady walks 

, . , . , the funnel there is still some water left in the i i •. r i 

a light breeze tube because water cannot rise higher than its and when it ieelS 
r ,1_ _. source. This water acts like a cork so that the i;i„ 

I rOm the east, mnictiirp puannratinpf from th#> water in thr> cranop 1 1 k C Icllll a gCntlC- 


try to help him. And he had tools. 

You never heard of weather tools? 
Oh, yes, you have. You have a ther- 
mom'-e-ter in your school room. The 
mercury in the tube is a 
messenger boy. It climbs 
with the heat and falls 
back with the cold. It 
tells you the temperature of the air 
as plainly as a clock tells the 

time of day. And 
you must have 
seen metal arrows 
turning on pivots 
above house ga¬ 
bles. They are 
weather vanes. 
They point which- 
ever way the 
wind is blowing. 
A pinwheel of pa¬ 
per, whirling on 
1 a stick, will show 
! you how fast the 
wind is blowing. 
i In the curious toy 
house where in 
fair weather a 

out 


_ i oUU 1 vti 

east, moisture evaporating from the water in the gauge 

But the weather cannot get out - 
man said, in the morning papers— 
and this is just how he said it: 


“Unsettled weather Saturday and Sun- 
I day, with showers; colder by Saturday 
I night; moderate to brisk south winds, 
| shifting to northwest by Sunday night.” 

Now, how did the weather man 
| know all that before it happened? 
| Up in his weather station tower 
| could he see cold and rain coming, 
| on the wings of the wind? 

The Man With a Hundred Eyes 

Yes; but he had the eyes of more 
| than a hundred other men in weather 
I stations scattered over our big coun¬ 


man appears with 
an umbrella, the figures are moved 
by fiddle strings that stretch in 
damp, and shrink in dry air. 

Some of the weather man’s in¬ 
struments are very simple. Any 
school could put up a weather vane. 
c , . Children could make a 

Studying . .... 

the Weather rain gauge of a jar with 
at School a f unn el lid,and measure 

a heavy rainfall with a ruler. They 
could e-vap'-o-rate water from a 
five-cent glass test tube, and find out 
how much vapor the air was taking 
up. But other weather instruments 
are as full of delicate wheels and 


:: 


♦♦ 


315 









:*i 


»> 

♦♦ 



PICTURED 

springs and things as a watch. 
Would you like to peep into the 
weather man’s workshop? 

In the Weather Man’s Workshop 

Many of his instruments look like 
clocks, grocer’s scales and gas meters. 
Most of their names end in “meter,” 


KNOWLEDGE 

thin metal box in the case is partly 
emptied of air. When the air out- 

"A Little side * s ^ eav ^ er ^ an 
Damfr” air inside it pushes the 

Says the Hair sides of the box in. That 
sets a wheel in motion and turns a 
hand on the dial. 

In another kind of meter a human 




How the Storm Writes its Name 


Machine that Foretells the Weather 

This is a recording barometer, the ingenious instrument that foretells the weather by 
making the weather guest register many hours before he arrives. A gradual but steady rise 
indicates settled fair weather. A gradual but steady fall indicates unsettled or wet weather. A 
very slow rise from a low point is usually associated with high winds and dry weather. A 
rapid rise indicates clear weather with high winds. A very slow fall from a high point is 
usually connected with wet and unpleasant weather without much wind. A sudden fall 
indicates a sudden shower or high wind, or both. 


which means “measure.” A gas 
meter measures the gas you burn. 
A moving hand marks the amount 
on a dial. The thermom- 

Vv hat a 

Lot of eter, or thermo-meter, is 

Meters! a heat measurer. The 

anemometer is a wind measurer; the 
hygrometer a water-in-the-air meas¬ 
urer; the barometer an air-pressure 
measurer. Electricity, the force of 
the wind and the height of the clouds 
are all cah-cu-lated by the weather 
man. 

One of the best barometers is 
shaped like a flat, round clock. A 


hair is made to tell a great deal | 
about dampness. Naturally curly | 
hair curls tighter on a moist day, | 
but straight hair becomes straighten | 
Hair stretches in wet weather, | 
shrinks in dry, so a long hair, set | 
in a frame, moves a delicately bal- § 
anced hand over the dial of the | 
hygrometer. The wind measurer | 
is a whirligig. On the ends of four 1 
short arms are hollow cups that | 
catch the wind, and set this “ane- | 
mometer” to spinning. A dial shows | 
how many times the cup whirls | 
around the circle in a min- 1 


♦♦ 



































THE WINDS AND 

| ute. It is easy then to figure out 
| how many miles an hour the wind 
| is traveling. 

Reading the “Mind” of the Clouds 

A weather man looks up to the 
| sky to see if there are any clouds, 

| what kind of clouds they are and 


THE WEATHER 

rus cloud. It often travels south or 
Yf ie east when the wind on 

“Little the earth is going west 

‘Bo <Pee£ or north. It is so high, 
as high as mountain 
tops, that it is in a different current 
of air. The cirrus cloud is thought 


Not Waves of the Ocean, but Clouds of the Sky 


V# 







Clouds photographed from a flying machine in 
peaks show through like islands in the sea. 


Do You 
Know a 
Kain Cloud? 


how much of the sky is covered by 
them. All clouds, you 
know, are made of 
vapor. Fog is a cloud 
that lies on the ground. 
Some clouds mean rain right away; 
others will travel farther before fall¬ 
ing in rain. As clouds do not all 
look alike a weather man can tell 
just what each kind is likely to do. 

A cloud made of little fleecy tails 
trailing after each other in the sun, 
like Little Bo Peep’s sheep, is a cir- 


California. The tops of pine trees and mountain 


to be frozen. Think of a cloud of | 
sparkling frost wool, floating three | 
miles high ! 

The stratus cloud is lower, and in | 
thin sheets, like layers of fleecy cot- j 
ton batting. Still lower is the cumu- j 
lus cloud. Its base often rests on | 
the earth. A snowy j 
mountain of a cloud, | 
the vapors climb up in | 
rose and gold crested | 
peaks and ranges, and shine in the | 
sun. 


How the 
Clouds Get 
Acquainted 
with Each 
Other 




:: 


3 1 7 





PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Summer Clouds 





Cloud masses like this, looking like half- 
combed wool and not so billowy as the cumulus 
clouds, tell us of thunder showers to come. 
Some people call them “thunder heads.” Rus- 
kin calls them “rolling heaps.” 


Sometimes a shadow falls on the 
| cumulus cloud. It turns gray. The 
| gray spreads until the sky is covered 
| with a shapeless, smoky vapor. That 
| is the nimbus or rain cloud. The 
| rising 


Here’s a billowy, beautiful, cumulus cloud. 
“Its base often rests on the earth. A snowy 
mountain of a cloud, the vapors climb up in rose 
and gold crested peaks and ranges, and shine 
in the sun.” 


telegraphs a report to Washington, | 
and to other central stations. From | 
reports sent to him he makes a | 
weather map, on an outline map of | 
the United States. He can read 1 


| vapor w a s 
| like steam 
| from a tea- 
| kettle. It 
| ran into a 
| river of 
| cold air 
| that was 
j coming 
| d o w n , 

| turned into 
| raindrops 
| and fell. 

| Clouds are 
| always go- 
| ing up and 
| coming 
| down on 
| air c u r- 
j rents, and 
| changing 
| from one kind to another. Most of 
| the time they are mixed, part one 
[ kind, part another. 

Twice a day the weather man 

I 


Cumulus Clouds Across the Sun 



Here cumulus clouds are covering the sun. Notice how the 
sun lights up and shines through the thinner parts of them. 
Cumulus clouds are truly “heap” clouds, as their name tells you. 


that wea- | 
ther map as | 
easily as | 
you can I 
read this | 
story. You | 
can learn | 
to r e a d | 
weather | 
maps, too. 

See the | 
circles, or j 
ring dots | 
scattered | 
over the | 
map? A | 
light circle | 
about a | 
c 1 e a r , | 
white] 
space,! 
means a I 


clear sky. Where there is a bar | 
across the circle it was cloudy. If | 
the rim is heavy the sky was cov- 1 
ered with clouds. A black spot | 










** 


THE WINDS AND THE WEATHER 

| marks where rain was falling. In 
| the shaded places on the map a frac- 
| tion of an inch of rain, or more, had 
| fallen in twelve hours. 

1 Of course 


V 

♦ ♦ 


| you have 
| guessed 
| that the lit- 
| tie arrows 
| are weather 
| vanes, 

| showing 
| which way 
| the wind 
| was b 1 o w- 
| i n g. The 
| dotted lines 
| that wrig- 
| gle across 
| t h e map 
| show the 
| tempera- 
| ture. Everv 
| p 1 a c e 
| crossed b y 
| the same line had the same degree of 
| heat or cold. The squirmy solid 
| lines show the weight of the air, or 
| air-pressure. There are several 
| oval spaces inside air-pressure lines, 
| marked “Low” and “High.” Those 
| are very important. They are the 
3 first thing a weather man looks at. 


Drifting Clouds 


coming down. It rushes down into 
a “Low” just as naturally as water 
runs down a hill; because it cannot 
help it. It is in a hurry. So a 

“Low” for 



Watch a sky partly veiled with clouds as this one is. You 
will see the clouds driven onward by currents of air. some 
traveling rapidly, others drifting lazily along, but all of them 
constantly changing, assuming new shapes and forms. 


| What a “Low” Is and What a “High” Is 

A “Low” is an out door room full 
| of warm, light air—that is, warm 
| for the season. Warm air, you 
| know, goes out of a room at the top 
I of the window. Cold 

air comes in at the bot¬ 
tom, or through ’that 
crack under the door. 
| Warm air is polite. It goes out 
1 quietly. But cold air ha£ bad man- 
| ners. It pushes and elbows its way 
| in like a bully on a playground. A 
| “High” is full of cold air that is 


VC^hy VC^arm 
&?ir is 
•“Polite" 


all it is so 
quiet, is a 
storm cen¬ 
ter. Blust¬ 
ering winds 
blow into 
it, catch the 
vapor and 
turn it into 
rain or 
snow. 
W e a t h e r 
changes 
come on the 
wind. But 
the wind 
doesn’t 
really go 
“whither 
so-ever it 
listeth,” that is to say where it 
likes. The winds are “just naturally 
obleeged to go” certain ways—as the 
colored gentleman said. 

Where and How the “Weather Crops” 

Grow 

If you were to divide our coun¬ 
try into weather zones you would 
probably make three broad belts 
running east and west. The north¬ 
ern edge would be cold, 
Weather the southern warm, the 

Other‘zones middle “betwixt and be¬ 
tween.” But that way 
of dividing would not do at all for 
a weather prophet’s work. Oceans 
and mountains, and the way the 
wind blows, have most to do with 
weather. We shall have to study 
our country to understand its 
“weather crops.” 

The United States is three thou¬ 
sand miles wide, with an ocean on 


♦t 





:* i 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


V# 


Coast 

‘Rain 

Belt 


the east and on the west. The sea 
coasts, mountain ranges and valleys 
all run north and south. But most 
of the winds come from the west. 

The winds that blow 
from the Pacific Ocean 
are stopped, two hun¬ 
dred miles inland, by the 
Sierra Nevada and Cascade Moun¬ 
tains. That makes a warm, rainv 
belt along the coast. This we 
might call “Weather Zone No. I.” 

From the coast mountains to the 
Rockies is a high 
plateau, eight hun¬ 
dred miles wide, 
that never gets 
enough rain. It is 
cool and dry in the 
north, hot and dry 
in the south. The 
third belt is the 
eastern slope of the 
Rockies.- Cold 
north, and hot south 
winds, with little 
moisture, blow 
there. Now watch 
these winds turn 
east! In the prairie 
belt, along the 
Mississippi, the 
winds are from the northwest and 
southwest. They pick up water from 
the Gulf and the Great Lakes, turn 
eastward and blow across the low 
Alleghenies, out into the Atlantic 
Ocean. 

Why the Wind is so “Fickle” 

“But,” you may say, “where I live 
the wind blows every which way, 
sometimes all four ways in a day.” 
Of course it does. You know the 
earth has two motions. It turns 
toward the sun, making day and 
night; and it travels around the sun, 
making the seasons. Wind travels 


Gigantic. 
Waltz of 
the W r inds 


The Mystery of the 
Little Wooden Horse 

What would you think of a toy horse | 
1 that would take a walk—all by itself— | 
| just because the weather was bad? 

It’s a fact; there is a toy that does | 
| that! 

You shut it up in a room and lock | 

| the door and give the key—say, to your | 

| little cousin that is visiting you—and | 

| tell him to keep it until after the rain | 

| comes, and see if the horse has not | 

| taken a little walk. • § 

Have him look the horse over care- f 

1 fully—take him apart if he wants to | 

1 —and see that there is no machinery in | 

| him. Then, when he opens the door | 

| and finds the little horse has moved | 

“quite a way,” just as you said he § 

| would, show him (but let him guess a 1 

| little first because it is good for boys I 

| and girls to guess about things worth | 

| while) that part of the horse is made of | 

| a pe-cu-li-ar kind of wood that expands § 

| in wet weather—grows longer; this § 

| makes the little horse push out his hind f 

| feet and so drive himself forward just § 

| as if he were galloping. 

niijiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmiiii? 


forward, in a straight or curved 
line, and, as it travels, it whirls. 
The winds waltz across the country, 
as dancers waltz across the room. 
You must have seen little whirlwinds 
waltzing along a dusty 
road, The wind that 
you feel, at any time, is 
only a small part of a 
wheel of wind that is moving for¬ 
ward. Cycle and circle mean the 
same thing. So cyclones are just cir¬ 
cular winds. They may be a hun- 

dred yards or 
hundreds of miles 
wide. Cyclones are 
not dangerous un¬ 
less they are travel¬ 
ing forward very 
fast, or spinning 
like a top. A wide 
cyclone, rushing 
like a railroad train, 
is a hurricane. A 
small cyclone, 
whirling so rapidly 
that it pulls up trees 
and houses, is a tor¬ 
nado. 


How the “High” and 
the “Low” Brought 
the Rain 


Let’s see if we can understand 
that weather in Chicago that we 
spoke of -at the beginning of these 
weather talks. With an east wind 
on Friday, bringing vapors from 
Lake Michigan, and a warm, hazy 
air, Chicago had a “Low.” Wind 
arrows showed that colder air was 
flowing in from a “High” to the 
On the northwest. Another side 

“Other" of the big wheel of wind 
°f tJie would pass over Chicago 

Wheel . , . . , 

Saturday, giving a south 
wind. You see the weather man 
knew how fast the whole wheel 
was traveling southeastward. By 


♦♦ 


Vt 


320 


’jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiii.mm.. THE WINDS AND THE WEATHER iiiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiiiilliiiiiiiiinilllllM 


A Rain Map of the World 



The parts with the heavy, wiggly lines, marked (1) have the average, good rainfall that is 
necessary for crop raising—from 20 to 75 inches a year. What zones are they in and how far 
are they from the sea? Number (2), the heavy, straight-lined parts of the world, have lighter rainfall, 
from 10 to 20 inches. If you know where the high mountains of the world are and from which 
direction the winds blow, it will be easy to explain the rainfall in these regions. In the parts of 
our own country covered by these lines, irrigation produces fine crops. The dotted areas are the 
desert lands with the least rain of all—less than 10 inches. The location of mountain ranges will 
explain them, too. And the black parts, number (4), are all near the equator, you see, where the 
rainfall is very heavy, over 75 inches a year. 

The Earth’s Rain Belt 



You have often seen pictures of Saturn with his rings. But did you know that if you could get 
far enough away from the earth to look back on it, as we do on Saturn through a telescope, you 
would see a belt of clouds around it? The water of the equator, under the hot sun, is con- 
stantly sending up vapor which turns to clouds in the cooler atmosphere of the upper regions and 
then comes down in rain. You never saw such a rainy place as it is around the equator. 




321 


























Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih PICTURED KNOWLEDGE ....iiiiiiiniiiiimiiiiiiminiimiicg 

The War And The Weather Man 1 



In order to predict the weather far in advance, it is necessary to know about weather condi¬ 
tions not only in the United States but in Europe; for we “import” weather from Europe just 
as we do other things. When the great European War of 1914 broke out, the United States 
Weather Bureau was receiving reports from all the places shown on this map and could foretell 
the weather a week in advance. When the war came, these Old World weather reports were 
cut off and the week-ahead predictions suspended. 


Sunday night the farthest side of 
the cyclone, with cold northwest 
wind would pass over Chicago and 
turn the vapors to rain. Monday 
very likely would be colder and 
clearer. 

The very worst of our storms are 
made by a “Low” in the Lake re- 
„ n gion, with a “High” in 

“Nor west- the northwest near the 
ers" are Rocky Mountains. A 
whirling torrent of cold 
air rushes down into the “Low,” 
bringing wind, making rain and 
snow of the vapor in the air, and 
leaving cold behind it. Picking up 


— 9vfade 


more water from the Lakes it sweeps | 
far down the Mississippi and across j 
the low mountains to the Atlantic | 
ocean. | 

The Storm Center in the Indies 

There is another storm center in | 
the West India Islands, southeast | 
of Florida. Hurricanes that start j 
there sweep up the At- | 
lantic coast, sometimes | 
to New England, and | 
curve out to sea. Or | 
they turn westward and sweep the | 
Gulf coast. Such a storm destroyed | 
Galveston, Texas. But these West 1 


VFhere Our 
Hu rricanes 
Come From 


r 


I!« 


32 2 


















































































































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


*> 




Indian storms never cross the Alle¬ 
gheny Mountains, nor come very far 
up the Mississippi valley. That big 
west wind, that crosses the lakes and 
spreads south and east, pushes the 
other wind away. 

; “Get off the track!” it says. “I’m 
the through train and ha^ve the right 
of way.” 

The Indians called the west wind 
“Mudjekeewis, king of all the winds 
of heaven.” 

, * . 

The Old Joke About Medicine Hat 

There used to be a joke about a 
place in Can- 


storms over that wide path blow 
from west to east. Where these 
winds blow over bodies of water 

Warm and they are warmed, over 
‘Rainy, land they are cooled. 

Cold and ‘Dry s G , the northwestern 

coasts of both the old world and 
the new are warm and rainy, the 
northeastern coasts, cold and dry. 

The Watch for Cold Waves 

All the way around the northern 
world, weather men keep their eyes 
chiefly on the west and watch the 
“Lows” and “Highs.” If there is 


| ada called 
| Medicine Hat. 
| People said it 
| was not a 
| town but a 
| “weather fac- 
| tory.” Now, 
| we know that 
| Medicine Hat 
| gets its wea- 
| ther from the 
| west, too. So 
| does the Paci- 
| fic coast. The 
| wind blows 
| eastward 
I across the Pa- 


i BEETHOVEN’S STORM SYMPHONIES | 

1 Henry Ward Beecher. 

“The seventy-third psalm reminds me | 
| of some of Beethoven’s Symphonies; | 
| and these, again, always make me think | 
1 of the tumult of the forest, when the 1 
1 wind roars and swells and surges with 1 
wild discord among the trees; when | 
1 the branches creak and crash against | 
| each other, and every bough has a sepa- | 
| rate wail. By and by the wind lulls; | 
| and when twilight is beneath, and all 1 
-~| the forest is quiet, or only so much \ 
| noiseful as the insects make it, then 1 
1 some bird on a treetop sings out clear | 
1 and 'Sweet, and his song goes floating 1 
| away over the wood, the very soul of 1 
| peaceful joy.” 

NiimiimniiiiiiiiftiiitimiiiiimiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiimiifimiiiimiitimmiiiitiiiiiHtiiiiiiititiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiijiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiir, 


cific, .and east¬ 
ward across China and Siberia. The 
Russians used to think their weather 
factory was in Norway. English 
people thought their weather was 
made in the Atlantic Ocean. Now 
they are sure it comes from Labrador. 
New York blames Chicago for its 
blizzards. The Chicago weather man 
keeps his eye on the northwest. 

Do you see? There is a wide 
cyclone path around the earth, be¬ 
tween latitudes forty and sixty, 
north; just where most white people 
dive and travel and trade. All the 


a “Low” at g 
Chicago and a | 
“High” one | 
thousand | 
miles to the | 
northwest, and | 
the wind is j 
t r a veling | 
forty miles an j 
hour, the wea- | 
ther man will | 
say a storm is | 
coming and | 
should be here j 
in about twen- i 

EE 

tv-four hours, | 

followed by a | 

cold wave. j 

But, if there | 

is another “Low” in upper Michigan, | 

that storm may turn east over Lake | 

Superior. j 

In that case Chicago might get the | 

southern edge of thecyclone, and have | 

local showers. On the high plains | 

Rodky east the Rocky Moun- | 

Mountain tains rain is most apt to j 

Weather fa.ll when north and I 

= 

south winds run into each other. But j 
in nearly every other part of the | 
country it is the meeting of the east | 
and west winds that most often | 
brings the rain pouring down, j 


*> 


*♦ 


324 







MiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiM^ THE WIND AND THE WEATHER iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniit^ 



© Detroit Publishing Co. 


The Coming Storm, by George Inness. (American b. 1825) 


The work of Inness stands in American art where that of Rousseau and Corot does in France. He 
was a landscape poet. How wonderfully he tells us here of the storm laden atmosphere, the “rolling 
heaps” and “wild gathering of thunderclouds with their solemn hush betore the tempest breaks. ’ 



© Taber-Prang Art Publishing Co., Springfield, Mass. 


Beethoven Listening to the Storm, by M. Wulff. (German) 

Now the storm breaks. As Inness put the poetry of nature on canvas, so Beethoven told of its 
grandeur in his music. The great word painter, Henry Ward Beecher, has translated both the music 
and the storm for us into words on the opposite page. 



325 














PICTURED KNOWLEDGE i 

Live Weather Vanes 


Did you ever see a weather-vane perched ’way up on a farmer’s barn to show which way the wind 
is blowing? Let’s pretend we’re weather-vanes! Take a deep breath, stretch your arms out 
straight at the sides, and blow out your breath as you twist from left to right and back again. 


(c) Horace K Turner 

This picture, “Before the Storm,” was painted by Julien Dupre, a noted French artist. 


It shows 


some French peasants hurrying to get their hay “in” before the black clouds at the right drop 
their load of rain, which will drench and ruin the crop of hay. All hands, women included, are 
working hard to save the hay. See the patient, strong old farm horses, one of which is munching 
a wisp of the fragrant, new-mown hay. = 


“Making Hay While the Sun Shines” 




326 















^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiH THE WIND AND THE WEATHER liiiiiwiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiuiHiiiiiiii 

| What the Weather Did to Mr. Sphinx' Nose 



This picture illustrates what is called “weathering,” that is to say, how the weather with its winds 
and its rain and its frost and flying sand shapes the rocks and the mountain tops. It even carries 
off people’s noses—piece by piece; particularly if these noses are carved in stone, as was that of the 
solemn old Mr. Sphinx. The Sphinx is one of the oldest pieces of sculpture in the world and has 
been weathered by the winds and sands of Egypt for centuries and centuries. 


The Three Brothers and the Great Stone Face 





On the left of the lower picture are the Three Brothers, mountain peaks in Yosemite 
Park. On the right is the Great Stone Face about which Hawthorne wrote you that 
beautiful story. Most of these strange forms are found in dry regions. They are 
carved in the rocks by the wind and flying sand, which cut away the softer rock and 
leave the harder rocks outstanding. In the desert regions of India, for example, 
there is a figure carved so that it looks for all the world like a tiger crouched on 
the edge of a big boulder. 




327 





















..... PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


Four Kinds of Climate in the United States 



H Our country can be roughly divided into four areas, each of which has the same general con¬ 

ditions of climate. The area indicated by (1) is composed of the states farthest south. You know 
what the weather is there—the summers are hot and the winters temperate. North of it is the 
white space on the map, region number (2). In it we find the two extremes of temperature, cold 
winters and hot summers. Number (3) has moderate summers and cold winters, and number (4), 
the Pacific coastal region, is always temperate. Its summers are not very hot nor its winters very 
§| cold. A present that the sea brings us from Japan is responsible for the moderate weather near 
= the Pacific. Do you know what it is? 


“What good does it do to know 
what kind of weather is coming?” 
you ask. “No one can stop it, or do 
anything about it.” Well, let’s see. 
Storms on the lakes and seas are 
dangerous for ships. When the 
weather man puts out a black or a 
red centered flag, giving warning of 
™ , a “cold wave,” or “high 

What the . ’ b 

Weather wind and snow, cap- 

'Profihet tains keep their vessels 

Does for Us • . iirt r 

' in port. When a farmer 

sees a blue flag, or a blue and white 
one, on the weather bulletin in the 
postoffice, he knows he must hurry 
home and get in the hay, before the 


:* 


coming “rain,” or “local showers” ] 
can spoil it. I 

When frost is pre-dict'-ed orange | 
growers watch thermometers in j 
their orchards, and keep oil stoves | 
burning under the trees to raise the | 
temperature. Shippers hold back 1 
eggs and fruit in zero weather. j 
When warned of a blizzard, rail- | 
roads get out their snow plows to | 
keep the tracks clear. The price of | 
wheat and cotton go up and down, | 
on good and bad weather reports. | 
Public health officers watch weather, | 
and warn people when there are j 
likely to be more cases of scarlet 1 


328 














































^jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiN THE WINDS AND THE WEATHER nmiiiiiiiiuiiiuHiiiiuiwminiiHinniiiiinniiiimiiiuiiiii^ 



fever, diphtheria, pneumonia and 
grippe. Every paper prints what 
the weather man says, and sensible 
people obey his orders. 

When the weather man says it is 
going to rain or snow, children 

should wear rub¬ 
bers and take um¬ 
brellas to school. 


And they should ask him if they can 
go nutting in the woods, or have a 
picnic tomorrow. Sometimes a 
storm runs off on a branch line, or 
backs up on a switch and fools the 
weather man. But he is right, eighty- 
five times out of every hundred. 

A mark of eighty-five is pretty 
high in school, isn’t it? 


| When the Winter is Over 

| And when the winter is over, 

| The' houghs will get new leaves, | 

The quail come back to the clover, 

And the swallow hack to the eaves . 

1 The robin will wear on his bosom 

A vest that is bright and new, 

| And the loveliest wayside blossom § 

1 Will shine with the sun and dew. 

There must be rough, cold weather, 

| And winds and rains so wild; j 

Not all good things together 

Come to us here, my child. | 

So, when some dear joy loses 
Its beauteous summer glow, 

Think how the roots of the roses 
Are kept alive in the snow. i 

Alice Cary | 

S l |^ll l ,llHlml ( | ll llllllllllllll l llllllllIllluranlllllllllln^llIllIlUllralllln^llllmlll■llIi^lllBnlllIUll , ...... 


329 











NATURE STUDY AND THE CHILD 


(V 


m 


H 


HAT is the use of Nature Study? It is 
the mother and teacher who ask that, never 
the child. To him a nature book is a thing of 
wonder. Like magic it summons up things 
new and beautiful and strange from far and 
near. The pictures and the description of 
the book are almost, as real as reality. The 
child’s imagination is not only wonderfully 
vivid, but he lives, much of the time, in his 
imagination. To him imagination is the hand¬ 
maiden of knowledge. Through it he 
learns to see, to observe, to find the won¬ 
derful in the commonplace. He 
learns to “spend his five senses” to 
good purpose. 

Do we not all feel that a blind or deaf child is pitifully handi¬ 
capped? There is a whole world of things he can never know or do. 
But do we realize that they are only a little less handicapped, whose 
senses are untrained—who, having eyes, see not? The most suc¬ 
cessful people are those who see, hear and feel the most, who grasp 
ideas and situations most quickly and reason the most logically. 

It is a mistake to think that the senses train themselves. With 
the years they tend to become duller, and used below their ca¬ 
pacity they never develop to their full powers. They are keenest 
in childhood at the very time when curiosity is liveliest. Curiosity, 
properly directed, leads to interest, interest to attention, and at¬ 
tention to observation. And here, at our doors, is the abundant 
material that has educated the race. In the book of nature is 
to be found all the color, form, texture, sound, odor, motion, 
economy, cold logic and warm emotion that have been put into 
the world. 

Importance of Method 

Just what things he observes or how many, is of less importance 
than how. In the subjects treated here, we have chosen those of 
universal interest and importance in themselves, and have used 
these studies to illustrate the educational viewpoint and the best 
methods of teaching. .There is a story in a pebble or a snow¬ 
flake, but as a rule, living things attract children most. The little 
drama of existence unfolds under the wide eyes of wonder and 
sympathy. And eager absorption opens all the gates of knowl¬ 
edge and develops new powers of thought and action. And then, 
suddenly the child discovers the use of books—this book. He 
comes to it, not to an assigned lesson, but to find out something 
he wants to know. And do not be troubled if he is backward 
in his speech, and writing. When he really knows something, 
from observation and reading, he will talk and write about it with 
feeling and intelligence. 

Quench Not the Spirit 

But, in emphasizing the importance of method and the training 
of the senses in Nature Study, we must not forget that the eyes 
are only the windows of the soul. Nature Study means most if 
we learn through it to love Nature more and more. Pursuing 
the work in this spirit, we may all come to say with Burroughs^ 
“Mine have all been contented and happy years. I am certain 
that my greatest source of happiness has been my love of Nature.” 







330 






















































































A Letter from John Burroughs 
To Our Boys and Girls 


331 


























































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IN THE GREAT 
WO RLD OF NAT URE 

THE GREAT GRASS FAMILY 





LG\ 




m 




T SN’T it funny 


\ I 


to see grand¬ 
papa look for his 
spectacles when 
they are on his 
nose? But there 
is a still better 
joke on the little 
and big people 
who never see 

things that are 

right under their 
noses. Once a 
famous college professor told a 
class of young men to study the 

Things We live fish in a tank - lt 
Look At but ' was a week before any 

Do Not See student thought to 

mention that those fish had scales, 
and of many kinds. 

The Velvet Carpet on the Lawn 

Let’s go out and study grass 
together. Pull up some grass on 



the edge of a lawn. It will not 
come up in a bunch. The roots 
Going Down will part raggedly. 
Where the They are really bur- 

Grass Begins • , 

led stems or runners, 
spreading underground. Green 
blades spring up from the joints, 
and root-hairs go down. Most 
grasses grow in tufts or knots. 
Blue grass and other creeping 
grasses make the best covering 
for lawns. The buried stems mat 
together, making a springy turf. 

All grasses are soil binders. In 
dry weather they keep the earth 
from cracking and soil from blow¬ 
ing away in dust. In 
wet weather they keep 
the soil from being 
washed away. On 
deserts wind - blown 
sands fill in every road that men 
make, and have buried temples 
and cities. Grass is bed-clothes 
tucked about the root feet of 
trees, shrubs and flowers, keeping 
them from being sunburned and 
frost bitten. 

If these were the only things it 
did, grass would be very useful, 
But it is also the chief food of 


How Grass 
‘ ‘Sews ’ the 
Earth 
Together 

grassless 















































































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


M 


I i' 


'X 


\lhd 




./if 




id 






the most useful 
family of ani¬ 
mals—the graz¬ 
ers. Bossy cow 
eats grass to run 
her milk and 
butter factory. 
Horses, sheep, 
goats, elephants, 
camels, buffa¬ 
loes, deer and 
kangaroos are 
grass eaters. 

Once they get 
above ground all 
grasses grow 
alike. They have 
jointed stems. 
Between the 
solid ring-joints 
the stems are 
nearly always 
hollow tubes or 
straws. What 
plants can you 
think of that 
have jointed, 
straw stems? 






We’re 
Great Grass 
Eaters Too! 


Wheat, oats, rye, barley, rice. 
The bread grains of the world, 
and the grains eaten 
by animals are the 
ripened seeds of a 
small group of grasses 
called cereals. Yes, corn-bread, 
too. Corn has a jointed stalk 
filled with a softer pith. Sugar 
cane is another tall grass. 
Fishing poles are made from 
bamboo, a giant grass. Canes 
with solid joints and hollow stems, 
as big as trees, spring one hun¬ 
dred feet in the air. The Fili¬ 
pinos and other tropical people 
build bamboo houses, bridges and 
stairs, and make furniture, bas¬ 
kets, umbrella frames and count¬ 
less useful things of bamboo. 

Did the Fairies Use These Cups? 

By cutting across a solid joint, 
then a little higher on the stem, 
they make good water pails and 
drinking cups. You can make a 
cup from the tiniest grass stem. 
It would hold a dew-drop for a 
fairy. 

The leaf of every kind of grass 
is a tapering ribbon, with parallel 
veins. The base of the leaf grows 
from a joint, entirely around the 
stem. Each leaf grows alone, one 
from each joint, in a spiral stair¬ 
way around the stem. 




336 













































A Strange Member of the Grass Family 


♦♦ 



This is one of the ways in which “grass” grows in Australia. It sometimes reaches a height 
of 30 feet and is called “the drumstick grass tree.” See the drumsticks? These grass trees 
are survivals of an age when rushes and sedges grew to an enormous size. They are one of the 
numerous queer things you find in Australia. > 


«» 


337 






^ , |l!!lll!ll!lllll!ll!lllll!llllllll!ll!lllll!ll!!l!ll!lllll!ll!li!ll!ll!ll!lll!l!llllllllt PICTURED 

Did you ever cut your finger on 
| the sharp edge of a blade of grass? 
| The grasses use silica, or glass, in 
| their bones, to help them stand up, 
| as we use lime. Some grass blades 
| are knives and some are toothed 
| saws. Put them under a microscope 
| and see the edges sparkle. It is the 
| silica that makes wheat straws and 
| corn stalks so smooth and bright. 

§j The Flowers of the Grasses 

| What a mistake to 
1 think that grass has no 
| flowers. Any bluegrass 
| lawn, uncut for a few 
| weeks, shows a feathery 
1 forest of flower heads. 

| Each one is a loose, 

| many-branched pyramid 
| like a pygmy pine tree. 

| Some grasses bear their 
| flowers on drooping 
| plumes; others in stiff, 

| c r o w d e d s p i k es, like 
| scratchy pussy willows. 

| The flower head may be 
| any shade of green, a sil- 
| very gray or brown, yel- 
| low, red or purple. You 
| might not notice the 
| color of one, but a field 
| of any variety, like red- 
| top, has a distinct color. 

| When ripe, many of the 
| grasses turn gold. A 
| golden wheat, oats or rye 
| field is a beautiful sight. 

A dozen bluegrass blossoms 
| could camp out comfortably on a 
| pinhead. Spear one with a fine 
| needle, and put it under a magnify- 
| ing glass. The flower cup is imper- 
| feet, just scaly shields, but there are 
| three little pollen hairs, and a hol- 
| low tube for the pollen to fall down 
| to the seed case—just as in the bell 


KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim 

of the lily. The lily is a three-parted | 
flower, with six petals. And it, j 
too, has ribbon-like leaves. Lilies | 
and grasses are near relations. But | 
grass has so little perfume that it has | 
no insect visitors. Wind scatters its g 
pollen. Such a lot of it! One bios- | 
som of rye makes 20,000 grains. 

Most of the grasses have the pol- | 
len hairs and the egg case in the | 


same blossom. But Indian corn has 
two kinds of flowers on one stalk. 
The handsome spiked tassel at the 
top is the pollen maker. The seeds 
are on the “ear” of corn that grows 
from a leaf axil. The wind blows 
the tassel, shaking the powder down 
on the “silks.” The pollen grains 
just “scoot” down the hollow silks 



A Bamboo Grove 


8llllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllllllllllllllltlll!llllllllllllllllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllllll 


333 















Timothy 


THE GRASS FAMILY 

to the seeds crowded on the cob. 

Of all the grasses it is easiest to 
study corn, because every part of it 
i'W is so large. There, the whole cob 
<y| full of seeds is wrapped in husks. 
>4 But in wheat, and most other grasses, 
\ each tiny seed is wrapped up by it- 
4 self, in straw scales. When the 
$ grains are threshed these scales fly 
;f away as “chaff.” Some seed scales 
have bristles, that make stiff beards, 
on the crowded seed spikes. Barley, 
rye and some wheats are bearded. 

All the grasses bear a one-leafed 
seed. The baby plant grows from one 
side. Peas and beans split into two 
leaves. Corn and wheat do not. 
Plant these seeds in sand boxes and 
see how differently they grow. 
Wheat looks as though it might split 
in growing, because of the groove in 
one side. Many grass seeds have 
that tiny furrow. 

The cereal grains are little lunch 
boxes, filled with food for the baby 
plant. First there is a horny skin 
on wheat as thin and as tight as your 
skin. Then there is a layer of brown 
gluten cells. The middle is a plump 
pocket full of white starch. 


Nearly a Thousand Things To Look For 

And grass is all alike? Why there 
are nearly one thousand varieties in 
our country alone! Along every 
roadside you can find dozens of 
them. All the grains but wheat 
grow wild. You can find the large, 
drooping seed sprays of wild oats, 
the bristling beards of wild rye and 
barley. Some of the wild grasses 
looks so much like the field grains 
that farmers call them “cheats.” 

Wild rice is often called the reed 
grass. It grows in the shallow wa¬ 
ter of marshes around our northern 
lakes and southern sea shores. It 



Cultivated Wheat = 

Wheat is supposed i 
to have first come = 
from Asia. If you ^ 
knew the history of = 
wheat, you would || 
know almost the his- == 
tory of- civilization, || 
for it has been used n 
as food since the be- = 
ginning o f history, g 
Some kinds of wheat || 
have white grains and || 
some are red, but it §1 
gets its name from an ii 
old A n g 1 o-S axon |f 
word, “hwaete,” which |j 
means white. |= 

Another curious n 
thing about wheat is j§ 
that some varieties || 
wear a “beard.” while || 
others are “bald-head- |j 
ed.” An old Persian s 
poet speaks of “har- = 
vesting the ‘bearded* 1 
grain.” E 




339 
















































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 




I has two kinds of flowers, a 

=3 7 

| bearded, pollen-making stalk 
| and drooping seed sprays. A 
| wild rice marsh, threaded with rivu- 
| lets, is always full of ducks and 
| bobolinks and hungry fish, feeding 
| on the falling grain. Indians used 
| to paddle through and beat the 
| grain off into their canoes. 

Blue grass is kept cut close on 
| lawns for the velvet turf, but in a 
| pasture its blossom heads spring 
| three feet high and silver bright. 
| Redtop, too, has a pyramid flower 
| head, but of a purplish red. Timothy 
| is the best of the hay-making grasses 
| for winter feeding. Its flowers grow 
I in crowded cylinders as round as a 
| lead pencil, often six inches long, and 
| glisten as with dew. He is a con- 
| tented farmer who in the fall, has a 
| haymow full of well dried timothy 
| and clover. Orchard grass grows 
| best in the shade. It grows in tufts 
| of blue-green leaves, with its flowers 
| in a drooping, graceful plume of one- 
| sided clusters. 

Like every other kind of plant, 
| grasses are both wild and tame. 
| Many grasses, as we have just seen, 
| grow by waysides. Old witch grass 
| sends up a plumy spray of seedy 
| threads as from a vase. Red and 
| brown and yellow foxtails switch 
| their bristling spikes. Wire, crab 
| and finger grasses grow spiky clus- 
| ters like corn stalks. The cockspurs 
| and burr grasses catch at the gar- 
| ments of every passer-by. Wayside, 
| sedge, marsh, dry and wet woods, 
I sand dune and beach each has 



Burr Grass 


♦♦ 


*,« 

*« 


340 















It looks like a giant palm-leaf fan considerably the worse for wear, doesn’t it? These palm-like: 
trees grow in the Island of Madagascar. The lower parts of the huge leaf stalks are hollow, so that 
they catch a large quantity of water. If the leaf stalk is cut across, a stream of water gushes out 
to refresh the traveler; so you see how it got its name. 








342 













































THE GRASS FAMILY 


4 



o w n 


Cultivated 

Barley 


many spe¬ 
cial kinds 
iss. Hidden 
among the 
sedges and rushes 
of northern brook sides 
is the scented vanilla 
grass that Indians still 
use for weaving their 
sweetgrass baskets. 

Why Some Seeds Stick to 
Your Clothes 

After a country walk 
in the fall you will find 
grass seeds clinging to 
your clothing. That is 
one way they have of 
getting themselves scat¬ 
tered and planted. 
They blow along roads, 
fly on the wind and 
float on water. Most 
of them have scales and 
hooks to cling by. 
Some become sticky 
or gummy, when wet. 


Some remain on the seed sprays, be- | 
come entangled with others, and are | 
tumbled across country by the wind, j 
as are many tumble weeds and | 
thistles. When they find a bit of | 
soft, damp earth they sink into the j 
ground. With their sharp pointed, § 
twisted bristles the seeds of wild oats j 
bore into the ground as though they | 
were live gimlets! | 

In one of the loveliest of the old j 
Greek stories, wheat was a beautiful j 
maiden, Per-seph-o-ne.» With the | 
coming of the winter cold, she went j 
down into the earth to live with j 
Pluto, the grim old god of the Un- j 
derworld. All winter her weeping | 
mother, Ce-res, looked for her lost | 
daughter with a lantern. At last the | 
maiden appeared as a tender green | 
mist, veiling the earth. Then she j 
danced out, into the golden sunlight, | 
and trailed her emerald robe across j 
the land. All summer the happy j 
Ceres toiled in the fields to make the | 
grains fruitful. So all our bread j 
grasses are called “cereals.” | 

It would take a big book to tell | 
you everything there is to know | 
about grasses. We have left a great | 
deal for you to find out for your- j 
selves for that is the best way, after j 
all. You could make some impres- | 
sions of grasses on blue print paper | 
and fill an album with them. You | 
could take hundreds of these pic- | 
tures, and no two would be alike. 



343 





























W HERE to begin to learn 
about the wild flowers is a 
puzzle. It would be nicest of all 
to begin by running right into a 
wood or field, “tossed full o’ blos¬ 
soms, leaves and birds. ,, 

But we have such a big coun¬ 
try, with so many kinds of cli¬ 
mate. In most parts of it little 
green points push up in March, 
and run across the earth like 
flickers of emerald fire. By April 
they kick off winter wrappings 
and toddle out into the sunshine 
cj-j ie and showers. Before 

Geography of May the first delicate 
Our Flowers blossoms have opened. 

But in New England, as Lowell 
says: “Half our May’s so awfully 
like Mayn’t,” that many spring 


flowers are delayed until June. 
On the Gulf Coast, where frost 
is rare, and in California, where 
rainy winter is the growing sea¬ 
son, some flowers are in bloom at 
Christmas, and May comes in 
February. 

Cold north, sunny south, sea- 
coast, forest, prairie, mountain, 
dry plateau, each has its darling 
flowers unknown elsewhere. You 
should learn to know the favorite 
flowers that grow wild nearly 
everywhere. They bloom at dif¬ 
ferent times and vary in size and 
color but are always to be found in 
much the same places, in wood, 
pasture, wet banks or shallow 
water. We will try, this time, to 
get acquainted with j ust 



344 







































































&iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiin WILD FLOWERS snuiiiiiiiiiiJiiininiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiniiiiiiiiiniuiiiiiiniiniiimBiiniiii^ 


The Snow-White Bloodroot 


“You may see a whole colony ol snowy, gold-centered stars of the bloodroot. This has pointed, 
satin petals and the blossom is shielded by a deeply lobed leaf that springs on its own stem from 
the root. The bloodroot is the Indian paint flower—an orange-red juice oozes from the broken 
stem." 


those sweet-smelly, or very beautiful 
or odd looking ones that are nice to 
put in vases for bouquets. 

Flower Fairies Come First to the Woods 

The very first flowers of the year, 
everywhere, are in the woods. After 
the tree blossoms have fallen, and 
often on snow patches, leafless 
shrubs, under the new-leafed cano¬ 
pies, suddenly burst into mists of 
bloom. The spice-bush with its 
tight little bunches of clove-scented, 
lemon-colored blossoms, and the 
blushing red-bud with its crowded, 
knobby flowers always look like the 
flowering sprays painted on Japan¬ 
ese screens. Later the large dog¬ 
wood blossoms make snowdrifts in 
the forest aisles. Then the wild 
crabapple is a thorny, twisty bou¬ 
quet of apple bloom, and the big 
hawthorn is hung all over with 
snowball bunches. 


On the ground few of the earliest 
bloomers stand more than six inches 
high. The blossoms are small and 
pale—for it takes a hot sun to burn 

Why Earliest bri g ht COl ° rS int ° fl ° W ' 

Flowers ers—and the leaves are 

S£re Pah thin anc [ sketchy as if 

there was no material to waste. To 
pick these delicate, short-stemmed 
flowers vou should have a basket 
lined with wet moss or leaves, to lay 
them on, for they wilt in hot hands, 
and die before you can put their 
little stem feet in water. 

Some flower lovers say the hepat- 
ica comes first. It looks like a flow¬ 
ering moss. White, or faint blue 
blossoms, with from six to twelve 
rounded petals crown the short, 
hairy stems. But before you find 
that, you may see a whole colony of 
snowy, gold-centered stars of the 
bloodroot. This has pointed, satin 
petals, and the blossom is shielded 





345 









♦♦♦ 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


♦.« 
♦ « 


's/ V/ 


by a deeply lobed leaf that 
springs on its own stem from 
the root The bloodroot is 
the Indian paint flower. An 
orange-red juice oozes from 
the broken stem. 

Spring Beauties of the Lily 
Family 

So many spring flowers 
are of the lily family, with 
parallel veined leaves, and 
blossoms with three or six 
petals. The dog-tooth violet 
is not a violet at all, but a 
lily. From a nest of pointed, mottled 
leaves it lifts a creamy bell spotted 
with brownish-purple. All the 
trilliums, or wake-robins, are lilies. 
A wiry stem supports three, broad 
leaves in a flat whorl. From where 
A “Violet" they are joined a flower 
That Isn't a rises. Both the white 
Violet and t p e p a j n ^ed trilliums 

flare open and flutter three pointed 
petals. The stemless wake-robin is 
closed into a stiff purple-red cone. 

Later in the season you should 
look for Jack-in-the-pulpit. The 
flower is a club spike standing in a 

Jack-in-the- bel }> like the calla lily. 
‘Pulfrt and This sheath is a leaf of 
His Friends g re en and purple, the tip 

arching gracefully over the little 
preacher. Another lily, most beau¬ 
tiful for its foliage, is Solomon’s 
Seal or twin flower. It is a sway¬ 
ing fern-like leaf of many leaflets. 
Strung along the stem are pairs of 
small closed bells of greenish white. 
As many as ten pairs of twins 
sometimes droop from one twelve- 
inch leaf. 


& 


On rocky ledges 
look for the feath¬ 
ery leaf and clothes¬ 
line stem of Dutch¬ 
man’s breeches. White- 
hearts is a prettier name, 
but the flowers do look 
like baggy little knicker- 
bockers, belt-buckled 
with yellow. The col¬ 
umbine is often found 
with it. Green lace on 
wire stems is its foliage, 
but the flower is the 
brightest of all the spring blossoms. 
Five coral-red, yellow-lined trum¬ 
pets, set in a circle, upside down, 
spurred at the base, and flaring at 
the mouth, make a neat cylinder 
blossom an inch or more long and 
across. 

Anemones, or wind-flowers, grow 
in colonies on clean grassy openings 
in the woods. Each plant is a wire 
stem supporting a whorl of feathery 
leaves. Above that a five-petaled 
rosette, pink or pearl white, flutters 
in every breeze. Bloodroots grow 
among them, and the pink striped 
star of the spring beauty. This nods 
from a fleshy pink stem and has 
thick, grassy leaves. Like many wild 
flowers, it shuts its eye at sunset, and 
when broken from the stem. But it 
revives in water. Its glistening lit¬ 
tle face looks newly rain washed. 

Sweet Miss Violet and Her Neighbors 

The buttercup looks wet, too. If 
you hold a blossom under the chin 
it reflects a yellow spot. It is found 
as early as May, and continues 


8 


*.* 


346 













I *' 111 """ 111111111 .. 1 . 1111111 . 1111 .. WILD FLOWERS .. . mi....... 


The Shy Little Blue Violet 



‘‘The dewy blossom is half hidden, and the face is tipped over, shyly, on a bent stem. Blue, 
delicately marked, gold-hearted, sweet-scented, the violets carpet the banks, meadows and swamps.” 


blooming nearly all summer. The 
golden cup of five, rounded petals is 
an inch across. The leaf is much like 
a deeply cleft maple. The marsh 
marigold is often mistaken for the 
buttercup. But that grows in 
swampy places, the blossom is larger 
and the leaf heart shaped. Violets 

How tie are almost sure to be 

Violet Hides found near buttercups. 
m Its Nest If you do not know the 

violet leaf you may find none of 
these darling flowers. Most of 
them, before blooming, grow nests 
of glossy, heart-shaped leaves. The 
dewy blossom is half hidden, and 
the face is tipped over, shyly, on a 
bent stem. Three petals stand up, 
two hang down, and underneath is 
a spur. Blue, lavender, purple, yel¬ 
low and white, delicately marked, 
gold-hearted, sweet-scented, the vio¬ 
lets carpet the banks, meadows and 
swamps. One kind lifts a branching 


Each little dewy face somehow looks 
different. You want to kiss all of 
them. 

Coarser and taller than the earli¬ 
est blossoms, the wild geranium and 
the ox-eye daisy herald the coming 
of summer. The first has a laven¬ 
der-pink geranium flower and five- 

And Flowers P arted ’ , down y leaves. 
Play Truant, The daisy, or white- 
T°°! weed, blooms from May 

to November by every wayside. 
Around a yellow button is a wheel 
of many strap-shaped rays. Brought 
over from England as a garden 
flower, the daisy escaped, and now 
grows wild. 

The prettiest thing to put with the 
daisy is another run-away—the for¬ 
get-me-not. This golden-eyed tiny 
blue flower grows in clusters on half¬ 
running stems, along wet brook 
sides. If you cannot find them use 
blue-eyed grass. It is not a grass, 
but an iris lily. Its six-petaled star 


I flower stem above a bird’s-foot leaf. 


347 






Ki 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


♦V 


Why the Water Lily Rises with the Sun 


night the water lily closes and sinks into the 
water as in the first picture. With the dawn the 
curved stem straightens and the bud begins to open. 
By the time the sun is up, the full blown blossom 
is floating on a raft formed of its own sepals. This 
arrangement of sepals keeps the flower and its 
precious pollen from getting wet. 


is borne on a stiff, flattened stem. 
It is a near relation of the purple 
flag of boggy river banks. 

Acres of this purple flag, stems 
and sword leaves rising two feet 
high, are not uncommon. Big 
flowers of violet-blue, yellow at 

Bouquets the base, and veined 

Made by with purple, with sev- 
*Mature eral Jong, sheathed 

flower buds, crown the rod-like 
stalk. A spike of flag gives you a 
flowering branch for a week. The 
gold cluster of the marsh marigold 
is usually found with the flags, for 
nature likes to put purple and yel¬ 
low together. 

Beginning of the Summer Pageant 

June is called the leafy month, 
but there are plenty of flowers. 
The wild rose spreads its pink 
chiffon petticoat in every grassy 
fence corner, along walls and 
clean waysides. It always has a 
single pink blossom of five, round¬ 
ed petals and a forest of yellow 
stamens in the center. It may be 
a dwarf bush, long, straggling 
canes, or a climbing vine. But it 
is always thickly set with thorns, 
and its compound leaf has 
prickles. You gather scratches 
with roses. In June, too, the 
waxen cups of pond lilies float on 
every bit of quiet back water. 
Some older person should take a 
child or 'two at a time out in a 
broad bottomed boat, and push 
through the anchored fleets of lily 
leaves. One of the wonders of 
nature is how the snowy, gold- 
centered cups keep their purity 
unstained in water covered with 
slime. 

By July the flowers have grown 
tall, and show burning colors in 
dry fields. Many of them are just 


♦V 








♦♦♦ 

M 


WILD FLOWERS 

The Companion Flowers of Autumn 


a 


“The tall plumes of goldenrod make a misty yellow background for the wild asters’ ray-flowered 
clusters of violet and lavender.” 


brilliant weeds that are too coarse 
for picking — milkweeds, mulleins, 
jewel weeds and Joe Pye weeds. 
The cardinal flower, both red and 

The Burning bI . Ue > are fine Spikes Set 
Colors of with many tubular blos- 


I J u h 


soms. The primrose has 


the loveliest odor, but its rose-like, 
canary colored blossom is too fragile 
for picking. The finest flower stalks 
of midsummer are the meadow, 
wood and Turk’s-cap lilies. Yellow, 
orange, flame and blood-red, spot¬ 
ted with brown, they are all small, 
wild copies of the garden tiger lily. 
The lily bells and buds droop from 
whorls of ribbon-like leaves. The 
cone flowers, or black-eyed Susans, 
are the first of many varieties of 
field sunflowers, that bloom now. 
Every one of them has a many rayed 
circle of yellow petals set around a 
yellow, brown or black plush cush¬ 
ion. Next come the flowers of the 
autumn time. 


The first flowers of autumn ap¬ 
pear in August—the goldenrod, 
asters and black-eyed Susans. All 
the clovers—white, pink, crimson 
and the tall, shrub-like, sweet-scent¬ 
ed clovers, tasseled with white, are 
still to be found; the delicate bells 
of the wild morning-glory ; the white 
umbrellas of tansv; the frowsv, 
lavender-pink heads of spicy mint, 
and a few spikes of blue and crim¬ 
son cardinal flowers. But by Sep¬ 
tember most other colors disappear, 
and every waste place is a glory of 
purple and gold. The tall plumes 
of goldenrod make a misty yellow 
background for the deeper gold of 
the field sunflowers, the last mustard 
and dandelion blossoms and the 
sturdy spikes of “butter and eggs, 
those humble cousins of the snap¬ 
dragons of the garden. And against 
this field of yellow the thistles lift 
their royal heads of purple plush, 
the ironweeds their reddish-purple 


♦v 


349 



t^llllll!!lllll!!!lll!ll!!lllll!llll!lll!lllll!llllllll!l!llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll PICTURED KNOWLEDGE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIII^ 


The Lady’s Slipper or Indian Moccasin 


“From a stout stem, between two large veiny leaves, swings a pouch. Some are large enough for 
a dolly’s shoe. One is snow-white, striped with pink. Another is golden yellow, lined with purple; 
another, pink.” 


| lances, and the wild asters their ray- 
| flowered clusters of violet and deli- 
| cate lavender. 

Flowers of Different Sections 

Now, if I were a “down east” 
| Yankee child, I would hunt, in early 
| spring for the tiny, pink-wax clus- 
| ter, on a creeping, evergreen plant 
| that the Puritans named the May- 
| flower. It is the trailing arbutus. It 
| has stiff, shining, oval 

| Flowers of leaves. It can be smelled 
| 'New England before seen, and must be 

| looked for among pine needles and 
| drifted leaves in melting snow 
| patches. Then, late in October, I 
| would look in moist woods and 
| meadows for the fringed gentian. 
| On top of the stem, often three feet 
| high, is borne a cluster of vase- 
| shaped flowers, of the lovely silver 
| blue of the Indian summer sky. The 


vase top spreads into four, fringed | 
lobes. These two flowers are the | 
darlings of New England. 

In the Allegheny Mountain states j 
little folks wake up some bright | 
June morning to see whole slopes | 
covered with the rosy snow of the | 
The Alle- mountain laurel. This is | 

ghenies and a WOody shl'llb, growing | 
Their Laurels to a sma p tree in the | 

south. It has thick, glossy, ever- | 
green leaves, and five-pointed flower | 
cups in big clusters. In sunny places | 
the flowers are pink, in shady woods | 
white. Although so big, it belongs | 
to the same heather family as the | 
Mayflower. And so does the azalea, | 
which floods the southern woods and | 
swamps with waves of white, pink | 
and crimson bloom. The azalea is | 
called the wild honeysuckle because | 
its flowers are tubular, in clusters, 1 
are fringed with curly stamens, and | 


♦ # 


350 








I 




WILD FLOWERS 

How Flowers Make Use of Their Bee Visitors 







it has a wild, 
sweet odor. 

In the forests 
around the upper 
lakes, the Indian 
moccasin flower 
grows. From a 


4 * 


0 ? 


stout stem, 
between two 
large veiny 
leaves, swings a pouch. 

Another name for it is 
lady’s slipper. There 
are several varieties, some large 
enough for a big dolly’s shoe. 

One is white striped with pink. 
Another is golden-yellow, lined 
with purple. The whole plant 
has a primitive, wild-wood look 
as has Jack-in-the-pulpit, and 
the Indian pipe. The Indian 
pipe is the “ghost flower” of 
northern woods. It is a true 
flower, but it grows like a fun¬ 
gus. Fleshy stem, scale-leaf and 
pipe-bowl flower-cup are all waxen 
white, as if they were little spirit 
plants come back to their earthly 
playgrounds. When picked they turn 
black in your hands, and decay 
quickly. And tread softly among 
them. Where many people are 
passing they vanish altogether. 

The eastern Rockies have so many 
beautiful flowers that it is not easy 
to say which is the best beloved. All 
the high plains below Denver are 
“green and blossoms in the spring, 
gold and blossoms in autumn.” The 

The Flowers P aIe lavender bell. 
of the Eastern spotted with yellow and 
Roches brown, of the Mariposa 

lily, is as fine as any garden flower, 
but it is not common. On the high 
plateau the Yucca, or Spanish bay¬ 


onet, blooms in June. From a | 
flat circle of sword-shaped leaves | 
rises a stalk three feet high, hung | 
with drooping tulip-shaped bells in | 
white and pink. Thick stemmed, | 
fleshy-leaved cactuses have brilliant j 
flowers, often as big as peonies, in | 
white, orange and blood-red. In the | 
hot sun of deserts these dry plants | 
seem to burst into flame. | 

California has many kinds of wild | 
flowers—those of a foggy, windy | 
coast; a fertile, sheltered valley; a | 
warm, dry, sandy region, and | 
snow-capped mountains. As John j 
Muir the poet of the Sierras, said : | 
“California is a sweet bee-garden | 
—abed of honey-bloom.” But it is | 

This is how the common sage takes advan- E 
tage of the bee’s visit to distribute its pollen, g 
The anthers are shaped like a reversed C. In |i 
Fig. 1 the pollen-bearing anther is at the top || 
of the C, the old, used-up part at the bottom, s 
Fig. 2 shows you what happens. As the bee j| 
pushes the barren anther upward in entering ^ 
the flower, a hinge arrangement tips the pol- |§ 
Q&EZ* len-bearing anther down so it brushes her back |j 

and the pollen is = 
scraped off. Above || 
the anthers is the pis- {| 
til, drooping down- || 
ward. As the flower || 
gets older the pistil §| 
drops lower and then ^ 
it brushes the bee’s §f 
body; it is sticky and |j 
collects the pollen left || 
there by the anthers = 
of other flowers. = 





35i 











PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 
The California Poppy 


ing the place of 
gfc, the dainty mountain 

BSjfek. lau r el on many a 

forest hillside. 

Besides, a few 
flowers are better 
than a bouquet, 
I crowded as tight as a 

lh cabbage. A half 

WMm dozen white or 

wygftijjg painted trilliums are 

|u BriMy enough for a slender 

it S M 1P^ vase. Violets should 

iy |Lgj P^ have their natural 

nests of many glossy 
M leaves. A few stalks 

m 

m o f b 1 u e flags, o r 

f tawny meadow lilies 

are prettier in a 
green vase than an 
armful. The Japan¬ 
ese, who make a 
study of flower ar- 
rangement, as we do 
of drawing and 
i music, never use 

**** many together, and 

• design was made Seldom mix mOl'6 

an gray paper with - i • j 

se white. No forms than tWO KinClS. 

n those that nature <-t-i i .1 __, 

you have only to 1 hey make the pret¬ 

tiest use of single 
flowering branches of shrubs. For 
big bunches, wait until autumn. You 
can fill tall jars with goldenrods, 
asters, black-eyed Susans and royal 
thistles, and never miss them from 
the fields. 


proudest of all of M ^ 

the silken yellow tM m 

poppies that cover ypr a 

pastures and moun- ilyM' 

tain slopes like 
banks of sunset; and I 

of the manzanita. 

This is a heather I W 1 ^ 

shrub, a cousin of 
the laurel and azalea W 

of the east. It jMn 

blooms as early as |WTi 

Christmas. The R|j m lk 

purple-brown stems L.M 1 II 

and pale, shining pglL 1 m 
leaves can scarcely fi 

be seen for the thick m 

clusters of fragrant, ilk » 

waxen bells. mm 

How to Pick the Wild 
r lowers 

When you pick 
wild flowers, do not 
take all that are \ 
growing in one 
place. Leave some 
to ripen seed. And 
do not rip Up vines, This beautiful flo 

.. r . by a high school gi 

or pull plants up by wash and a little Ch 
. , . t r ii are more beautiful 

the rOOt. If there makes in flowers; 

are only a few, copy th ' m ,ai,hfully 

leave them alone. The very rarest 

of our flowers are disappearing— 

the lady’s slipper, the Mayflower, 

hepatica, gentian, maiden-hair fern, 

columbine, Jack-in-the-pulpit and 

Indian pipe. Coarse weeds are tak- 


352 








































































• 








Here are the most common poison plants. Upper left, monk’s hood; upper center, berries of 
poison ivy; plant with lavender flowers, one of the lobelias. The delicious-looking black berries 
grow on the deadly nightshade. Below, at the left, is the deadly amanita and on its right the 
jack-o-lantern fungus which although not deadly would, if eaten, make you very sick. 











way the best 
teacher in the 
world got the 
attention of a room full of fidget-y 
boys and girls. Instantly forty 
pairs of bright eyes became 
eighty snapping question marks. 

Because, this morning at 
breakfast, I had to say to little 
brother: ‘Don’t eat that, Billy 

Boy; it isn’t good for you’.” 

“ ‘Oh, I wish I were an Indian, 
to live in the woods and eat what 
I like,’ he said impatiently. 

“No real Indian boy would be 
as foolish as that. If he were, 
he would never live to grow up 
to hunt bears.” 

Just then the prettiest little girl 
—a blue - eyed, rosy - cheeked 
dumpling of a German Louise— 
came in, out of breath, 

Louise Found with a spray of vine 
in the Vacant from a vacant lot 

Lot nearby. The teacher 


c .Poison 
Ivy Found 
Everywhere 


Remember What These Leaves Say 

“See the three, broad, notched 
leaflets together, at the ends of 
the branches? Their names are 
Touch-Me-Not. This 
is the poison ivy that 
grows nearly every¬ 
where in America. It 
is often mistaken for the Virginia 
creeper, but that has five leaflets. 
The poison ivy sometimes trails 
along the ground, but it likes best 
to clamber over rocks, fences, 
bushes, and to climb tall trees. 
Every part of the plant is poison¬ 
ous to the skin of most people. 
The hands swell up to twice 
their size, and have a dozen 
kinds of burning, stinging, aching 
pains all at once, for days and 
days. Poisoned hands should be 
bathed with baking soda water, 
and bandaged with witch hazel. 
They should never be put 


IN THE GREAT 
WO RLD OF NAT URE 

POISONOUS PLANTS 


kerchief wrapped around the stem. 

“You picked it with your mit¬ 
tens on, didn’t you, dear? That’s 
lucky.” She held up the spray 
for the class to see. It was lovely, 
in its autumn gown of mottled 
crimson. 


A knew the 
Indian words 
for ‘mustn’t - 
touch-it’.” 
That’s one 


353 


















































PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


♦V 


Leaf of the Poison Ivy 


that burning bush! That is our 
other ‘mustn’t-touch-it.’ It is the 
poison sumac. This lit- 
Sumacs Are tie tree with its long, 
Beautiful feathered leaf, made of 

many willow-like leaflets, is often 
mistaken for the true sumac. But 
that has its little flowers and seeds 
in a stiff wine-red cone at the top 
of the stalk. The flowers of the 
poison sumac are in a drooping 
spray. Both give us beautiful au¬ 
tumn leaves of flaming red. All the 
other poison plants in our woods 
and fields are ‘mustn’t-taste-its.’ ” 


Other Harmless Plants and Their Dan¬ 
gerous Twins 

♦ One boy who had been in the 
country in summer said he had 
eaten the sweet, crisp pith of a blade 
that he thought was calamus. It 


The Poison Sumac 






| to the face. That is Lesson Num- 
| ber One in ‘Plants that Every Child 
| Should Leave Alone.’ ” 

“Can we have Lesson Number 
| Two right away?” - asked the boy 
| who had dug up the dandelion. 

“Lessons two and three, four and 
| five will be held at four o’clock 

| Find Out ey ery day this week, 
| All About in Wild Garden. You 
| the Ivy are c i ever a £ drawing, 

| Johnny-Jump-Up, so you may make 
| pictures on the blackboard with col- 
| ored crayons, showing every part 
| of this dangerous plant, then you 
| will always know it. The rest of 
| you may find out in books at 
| home, everything you can about 
| poison ivy, and write a story about 

I lt ” 

As the children scrambled into 
| the Wild Garden at four o’clock, 
1 the teacher exclaimed: “Look at 


“See the three, broad, notched leaflets 
together at the ends of the branches? 
. . . This is the poison ivy that grows 

nearly everywhere in America.” 

Berries red, have no dread. 

Berries white, poisonous sight, 
Leaves three, quickly flee. 


This is the poison sumac. “This little 
tree with its long, feathered leaf, made of 
many willow-like leaflets, is often mis¬ 
taken for the true sumac. But that has its 
little flowers and seeds in a stiff, wine- 
red cone at the top of the stalk.” Poison 
sumac berries are white. 




• 354 









^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii POISONOUS PLANTS iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiliiiiiilll 


was a wild flag. He was so ill that 
a doctor had to be called. 

“Many poisonous plants look like 
the harmless ones, and taste like 
them. Wild parsnips can not be 
told from those that grow in gar¬ 
dens. All wild plants with much- 
divided, parsley-like, curly leaves 
should be avoided. 

There is a poison 
hemlock now!” 

It was a pretty 
shrub, four feet 
high, with a many- 
branched, rigid 
stem, and saw¬ 
toothed curly leaf¬ 
lets making a big 
leaf. At the top 
were seeds in um¬ 
brella-shaped clus¬ 
ters that, in sum¬ 
mer, had been 
small white blos¬ 
soms. The branch¬ 
es were spotted 
with reddish pur¬ 
ple. One of the boys 
dug around the 
root so that every¬ 
one could smell its 
oleasant odor. 11 

j. 

is the fleshy root 
that is poisonous. It can be han¬ 
dled freely. The children crushed 
the leaves in their hands. 

“Oh! They smell just like a little 
furry animal!” cried one girl. “Like 
the pet white mice I have in a 
cage.” 

“This plant got itself into his¬ 
tory. The wisest man of old Greece 
— Socrates — was condemned to 
o . 7 death for refusing to 

“TheCufi worship the Greek gods. 

of Death drink was made from 

the hemlock root and given him. It 
put him to sleep and he never woke 


up. So hemlock is called ‘the cup of 
death/ It is a regular tramp of a 
plant, marching along every dusty 
roadside. The water hemlock of 
the swamps is poisonous, too. It 
is called the spotted cowbane, as 
cattle are often made sick by eat¬ 
ing the leaves. The stem is spotted 

with red. The blos¬ 
som and roots are 
much the same but 
the leaf is not so 
curly.” 

The Yellow Buttercup’s 
Poisonous Cousin 

The next poison 
plant the children 
found grew as low 
as the violet. It 
was just a knot of 
spreading hand¬ 
shaped leaves, with 
five and seven 
broad finger leaf¬ 
lets. Upright stalks 
bore a single seed 
case. Some of the 
children remem¬ 
bered that it had 
had open, cup¬ 
shaped blossoms, 
like greenish but¬ 
tercups in the spring. 

It is a cousin of the pretty yel¬ 
low buttercups. It belongs to the 
hellebore family, many members of 
which are grown in gardens for 
their beauty. One of them is called 
the “bachelor button.” Powdered 
hellebore roots are used to kill in¬ 
sects and caterpillars on plants. 
The “white hellebore” is not a true 
hellebore. It has the parallel, 
veined leaves of the lily of the val¬ 
ley, and small green flowers set 
close on a stiff, fleshy stem. Very 
young children have died from bit- 



Fool’s Parsley 



When this plant is young it looks very much 
like garden parsley and is often mistaken 
for it, hence the name. It grows in waste 
places and neglected gardens. 


355 





£iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


| ing the stem or root. 

A wild geranium was 
| found in the garden, too, 

| with its fuzzy, lobed leaf 
| like a hairy maple. In the 
| spring this plant is known 
| by'its lavender-pink gerani- 
| um flower, and in the fall, 
| by its sharp, beaked seed- 
| case. It is sometimes called 
| the crane’s bill, and some- 
| times the alum root. The 
| root has a great deal of 
| tannin in, it, and puckers 
| the mouth and stomach. It 
| often makes children very 
| ill. 

A Kind of Milk That Makes 
One Sick 

There were two members 
| of the poisonous lobelia 
| family in the garden—In- 
| dian tobacco and the cardi- 
| nal flower. The Indian to- 
| bacco is a stiff-stemmed 
| plant a foot high, with long 
1 oval, tobacco-like leaves. In 
| the summer it has a small, 
| blue, bell-shaped flower. 
| The seed cup is a tiny, 
| bulbous vase, the lips flar- 
| ing open. A milky, rub- 
| bery juice runs from the 
| broken stem. A very little 
| of this acrid, biting milk 
| causes vomiting. The beau- 
| tiful cardinal flower of 
| damp woods and river 
| banks has milky juice, too, 
| and so has the water lobe- 
| lia, with ‘its blue flowers. 
| Many of the lobelias are 
| lovely garden plants. They 
| can be handled, but one 
| should be careful not to get 
| the milky juices on the 
| hands. They quickly dry 

^lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll 


Flower, Stalk and Root of the Water Hemlock 



‘‘The water hemlock of the swamps is poisonous. . . 

It is called the spotted cowbane, as cattle are often made 
sick by eating the leaves. The stem is spotted with red.” 
It has a big, bulbous root with large fleshy fibers, like 
most plants that live in damp places. 

The cross section of the root shows the partitions 
dividing the interior into little rooms. 



356 





♦> 

♦♦ 


POISONOUS 

to a kind of rubber. Indeed, many 
careful people wear old gloves when 
gathering flowers, to protect their 
hands from disagreeable juices, and 
from briar scratches that are often 
painful. 


PLANTS 

“There’s one root I think Indians 
used,” said Billy Boy; for Billy 
Boy was a boy who thought. “It 
is horseradish. You grind the root 
up in vinegar, and use it on boiled 
beef. Wouldn’t horseradish in 


-*♦ 


Why Mr. Jimpson 
of Jamestown? 


Don’t Mistake This for Wild Horseradish 


d 


Ah, there’s a 
fine J a m e st o w n 
(Jimpson) weed,” 
cried the teacher. 

You would never 
mistake that stocky 
shrub, with the 
big, glossy leaves 
and white bell 
blossoms as big as 
morning glories, 
for anything else. 
It has a poisonous 
juice, like opium, 
that is made from 
poppy seed. You 
should never eat 
poppy seed, mus¬ 
tard, or any wild 
seeds at all.” 

Only Three Wild 
Berries That Are 
Safe to Eat 

“Blackberries, 
raspberries and 
strawberries are 


wild grape juice | 
be fine on bear j 
meat!” | 

It Looks Like I 

Horseradish, § 

But It Isn’t 

“Yes,” said the | 
teacher, “I think | 
it would be. But | 
this plant you are | 
looking at is | 
monk’s hood, with j 
horseradish -like | 
leaves. Its purple | 
hood o r helmet- j 
shaped blossom, j 
grows loosely | 
along a spike. It j 
belongs to th e | 
poisonous aconite j 
family. The true | 
horseradish be- | 
longs to the same | 
family as the gar- | 
den radish, turnip j 
and wild mustard. | 

“This plant you are looking at is monk’s hood, I t has the same || 
with horseradish-like leaves. Its purple, hood or Kf4-1 p fnnr.npfa 1 ed 1 

helmet-shaped blossom grows loosely along a * ’ n 

spike, Fig. 1. Ij: belongs to the poisonous crOSS-shaped bloS- I 

in l zzz 


aconite family. The true horseradish ... , , , 

the onlv wild ber- has the same little four-petaled, cross-shaped SOU! and poclclecl 
. v blossom and podded seed,” but its root, Fig. 2, 

1'ies that are safe you see, is different from the monk’s hood root. 

, Fig. 3. The horseradish has a light-colored, 

to eat. illaerber- thong-like root, hairier than that of the monk’s 
• 1 ^ 1 ^ hood, which is dark and cone-shaped. 

ries are whole¬ 


some, but children often mistake the 
deadly poke-berries for elderberries, 
so that it is best to leave them alone. 
Scarlet bittersweet and mountain- 
ash berries are beautiful in flower 
vases, but are poisonous to eat. Wild 
grapes are so acid that they often 
cause cramps and throw little chil¬ 
dren into spasms. 1 


)) 


seed.” 

Last of all the 
children hunted 
around the rotting stumps and a 
fallen log, and along dry, grassy 
banks for the little umbrella-shaped 

The Pretty {un 8 { that the >^ Called 

Little Wild “toadstools.” Such 

Umbrellas pretty ones they found 

—white and cream, yellow, orange, 

gray, smooth and scaly and spotted, 

with white, brown and gray gills 










PICTURED 

like ruffles underneath. 

“They are just like the mush¬ 
rooms mama buys in the market,” 
insisted one little girl. “They are 

i i«« 

SO 


good!” 


Difference Between 
Toadstools and 
Mushrooms 


KNOWLEDGE 

light, like the heads of phosphorous 
matches when you rub them. I here 
are good mushrooms in the woods, 
but people who have not made a 
special study of books on mush¬ 
rooms and toadstools should leave 

all the fungi 


♦V 


A Plant That Puts People to Sleep 


“They certainly 
look like them; 
but, growing wild 
as these are, I 
think they are the 
death-cup fungi. 

The cap is smooth, 
a pale, creamy 
white, a n d the 
gills and stems a 
bleached w h i t e. 

They grow in 
every open wood 
and meadow. 

Sometimes the cap 
is pure white or 
olive and scaly. 

This beautiful one 
with the vellow 

j 

cap is the deadly 
amanita. It grows 
in rich earth, 
around rotten 
stumps and in 
groups. The cap 
may be any shade 
from white to or¬ 
ange-red. Around 
the base of the stem is a scaly ring, 
and then a swollen bulb that is part- 
lv buried. 


But What Did the 
Indians Eat? 


Jack and the Lantern in His Cap 




‘Those tricksy-looking ones grow¬ 
ing together at the base, and bend- 
JacV anJ in g a«ay at even- angle, 
the Lantem are Jack -o’ - Lanterns. 
In His Caj, The w ] 10 ] e plant is a 

saffron-yellow. After nightfall the 
caps are often aglow with a faint 


alone. A good 
motto for a child 
would be: 

“All fungi in 
the woods and 
fields are toad¬ 
stools.” 


“Why Indian 
boys and girls had 
to leave nearly 
everything alone. 
What could they 
eat?” (For Billy 
Boy was troubled 
about his little red 
friends-that-used- 
to-be. ) 

“All the nuts, 
many wild fruits, 
even sour cran¬ 
berries, grapes 
and plums, if they 
had maple sugar 


Here is the henbane, that secretes a juice simi¬ 
lar to belladonna. It is very poisonous to all to COok them with ! 
living things, but especially so to chickens. Like 

the poppy and the hemlock it makes people go to Water Cresses, 

sleep ‘ mustard, wild on¬ 


ions, wild rice. But so few wild plants 
are wholesome that the Indians were 
obliged to grow corn, beans and 
pumpkins. Many leaves, roots, 
barks and seeds that were unfit for 
food were good medicine. Indian 
children were watched every min¬ 
ute. They were brought up on: 

“ ‘Mustn’t-touch-it. Don’t eat 
that; it isn’t good for you.’ ” 

The boys were swinging their 
legs over the cement walk into the 






iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ POISONOUS PLANTS 


18 


tangle of growth of the Wild Gar¬ 
den. At last Johnny-Jump-Up 
said disgustedly: 

“One might as well be a white 
boy.” 


“It is just as much fun, and far 
safer.” The teacher was smiling. 
“Run along, now, or Jack-o’-Lan- 
tern will have to light you home.” 


Daffodils 

I wander'd lonely as a cloud 

That floats on high o'er vales and hills. 

When all at once I saw a crowd, 

A host of golden daffodils, 

Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. 

Continuous as the stars that shine 
And twinkle on the milky icay, 

They stretch'd in never ending line 
Along the margin of a bay; 

Ten thousand saw I at a glance, 

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. 

The waves beside them danced, but they 
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee — 

A poet could not but be gay 
In such a jocund company! 

I gazed and gazed, but little thought 
What wealth the show to me had brought. 

For oft, ujhen on my couch I lie, 

In vacant or in pensive mood, 

They flash upon that inward eye 
Which is the bliss of solitude; 

And then my heart with pleasure fills, 

And dances with the daffodils. 

William Wordsworth 






359 


£:iiniiiniiiniiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiii* 




How the Hornbill Walls-in His Mate 

“ He wall 5 her in leaving a hole for the tip of her beak. For two months he feeds her and 
downy babies with fruit through the hole.” 


Jealous Mr. Hornbill 


360 














IN THE GREAT n 
WO RLD OF NAT URE 

ANIMALS’ HOMES 

Some Curious Homes of Animals 














m, 


s 








. 

>5 


■ 






- V- 


They are cliff dwellers, gluing their nests in colonies to the rocky walls of caves, 
above the sea, in the far-away East India Islands. 


N EARLY all animals except 
grass eaters, that live in 
herds in the open, and insects that 
live in the sun only a few days 
or weeks, have some kind of a 
home. Lions live in natural caves, 
wolves and foxes in dens and 
bears in hollow trees. But all the 
birds, most little furry animals 

Bird,’ Nests and beeS ’ antS ’ S P lde r S 
that are and wasps make their 

Good to Eat homes. The only tools 

they have are their feet and 

mouths, but they use these in the 

cleverest ways for spades, saws, 

augers, needles, weaving shuttles, 


knives, shears and trowels. They 
make the cleverest, cosiest homes 
in which to hide and sleep, store 
food and bring up their helpless 
babies in safety. Caterpillars 
make a gummy silk to wind about 
their bodies, bees make wax cra¬ 
dles and honey jars, and spiders 
have a silk for weaving their 
wonderful dens and fly traps. But 
did you ever hear of a bird that 
draws threads of saliva from its 
mouth and weaves a nest with 
them ? 

Wung Foo, the little Chinese 
boy, could tell you all about that, 






































IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH 

A Bird Village in a Tree 



Like a human village, the bird colony is built up slowly. A single pair of birds makes a nest 
with an awning of long, tough grass. The next year this pair returns, bringing their children. 
Year after year the nests increase until the tree is surrounded and the sloping roof extended to 
shelter dozens and even hundreds of families. 

..... .. 


362 




♦ * 


SOME CURIOUS HOMES OF ANIMALS 

would give you bird’s nest soup for 
dinner, but he could not show you 
where to find such a nest. It is 
made by swallows, very much like 
those that make mud villages under 
the eaves of barns. 

A H ouse with a Real and a False 


*,• 

♦> 


They are cliff 
dwellers, g 1 u i n g 
their nests in col¬ 
onies, on the rocky 
walls of 


Doorway 


inner room is for mama and the | 
babies. The papa bird sleeps in the j 
entry to keep an eye out for bur- | 
glars. The buffalo weaver birds | 
join company and build several nests | 

together. The so- | 
ciable weaver bird | 
of South Africa j 
makes a tenement | 
house around the | 
trunk of a stout | 
tree, and under an | 
umbrella roof big | 
enough to shelter | 
several men. Like | 
a h u - i 


Tenement 
House Around man 
Tree Trunk 


VPeaving 

“Glass"Houses caves 
on the Cliffs above 

the sea, in the far 
away East India 
islands. The bird 
presses its tongue 

against the rock to UEjHHrt‘■ y f ‘jSBL lreelrunk village 

fasten the end of a the bird colony is § 

thread, then flies apfl® built up slowly. A j 

back and forth, jpr 1 single pair of birds | 

pulling out a cord makes a nest with j 

that dries and har- p an awning of long, | 

dens almost at once, v m*. ^ tough grass. The | 

and weaves it into " Ife ^§3 next year this pair | 

a basket nest the JgV returns bringing j 

size and shape of a /Ljjp their children. | 

quarter egg shell. , SM Year after year the | 

It is a pretty amber ^ ’ ' ‘ 'Sr nests increase, un- | 

in color, as clear as y * ; til the tree is sur- j 

glass, and melts in , rounded and the | 

hot water. It is sloping roof ex- | 

made in pitch " ' tended, to shelter | 

darkness, in the dozens and even | 

night, the birds flv- hundreds of fam- | 

ing like bats. ' ilies * Bats ’ insects | 

a o- j tl a d *u HHr 1 !! Jk and snakes find i 

A Bird That Builds , , = 

a Tenement shelter there, too. | 

House Ik ^ It is a noisy tene- | 

Of all our native The real entrance to this weaver bird’s ment house, every- | 

... .. *i nest is at the bottom. Half-way up is a r'ririncr crnld- 1 

birds the orioles mock opening, made to deceive possible en- OL CT\ 11 g, ^ 

n i* ^ tl 1P rlpvPrPSt .emies. Mama Weaver and her babies are j n or and quarrel- I 

cl T C me Cie\ eresi in rounded out part at the top. There o 1 

Km'lrlprc V is a strong partition between this and the mg, blit all Safe I 

nest Dimeters, wea\ “spout” to keep the eggs and babies from ‘ • i 1 

1* rr u li a n ff i n P 1 falling to the ground. Papa Weaver is under a COniCal = 

1 n g a nangl n g peeking at you over the edge of the log. . 1 

purse or pocket mot tnat is stiong ^ 

from an elm bough fifty feet in the er than the roof of many a bush- j 

air. But in hot countries there are man’s grass hut. The bird that | 

orioles that weave double nests. The weaves this wonderful tenement-like j 


r 


♦♦ 


363 



♦ ♦ 




PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

nest is only six inches long, red, and is called the diamond bird. 

It tunnels a gallery for two or three 
feet into the earth, then hollows out 
a perfect three-inch globe that it 

lines with bark 


What Do You Think of This, Girls? 

The tailor bird sews her nest 
She selects a 
large, strong 
leaf growing 
from the tip of 
a t w i g . All 
around the 


Hatches Her Eggs with an Incubator! 


edge 

pierces 


she 
a row 
of tiny holes 
with her bod¬ 
kin bill. Man- 
uelo, the little 
Filipino boy, 
lies very still in 
the woods and 
watches her do 
it. She finds 
another leaf of 
the same size and shape and makes 
holes in that. Then she strips bark 
from tough weeds, splits it into 
threads and sews those leaves into a 


The 
q u e e 


The Australian mound-bird makes a nest of leaves 
and grass and lays its eggs in it. Then it piles more 
leaves and grass on top of them until they are buried 
two feet deep. This is how the finished mound looks. 
These mounds are sometimes forty-five feet in cir¬ 
cumference. The leaves and grass decay and in so 
doing produce heat, as you know, which helps hatch 
the eggs. 


fibres. This 
work is, of 
course, done in 
complete dark¬ 
ness. 

puffin, a 
r water 
bird of the 
Faroe Islands, 
makes a V 
shaped burrow 
with two en¬ 
trances and a 
nest at the bot¬ 
tom. It folds 
its wings and 
webbed feet 


deep bag. In 
the bottom she 
makes a bed of 
down. 

Two Burrowing 
Birds 

In Australia, 
that is noted 
for its queer 
plants and ani¬ 
mals — blue 
gum trees, kan- 
garoos and 
laughing jack¬ 
asses, which are 
parrots that hee¬ 
haw — there 
is a tinv bird, 


inches long, that digs a nest. It is a 
flashing jewel of black, white, gray, 
brown, yellow, orange and blood- 


and toboggan-slides to its home. | 
It sleeps standing upright, as solemn | 
as a fat alderman. | 

Jealous Mr. Hornbill of the Far East |j 

You know | 

The Brazilian “Johnny Clay” and His Home that OUr native 1 

woodpeckers, | 
owls and some | 
blue birds nest j 
in holes i n | 
trees. The | 
hornbill of the | 
Far Fast does j 
this, too. It is | 
as big as a pi- | 
geon or a crow, j 
W hen mama | 
bird has moved j 
in, lined the | 
nest with feath- | 
ers and laid two | 
eggs, papa | 
fetches clay and walls her in, leaving | 
a hole for the tip of her beak. For j 
two months he feeds her and the j 
downy babies with fruit, through | 


Here is the oven-bird of South America and his 
nest. It is built of clay on the bough of a tree, and 
has a long narrow opening. It is like the clay ovens 
used by primitive peoples and from it the bird gets 
the name. The people of Brazil call this bird “John¬ 
ny Clay.” 


three and a half 


364 




:> 


SOME CURIOUS HOMES OF ANIMALS 


♦.* 


the hole. But if Mrs. Hornbill 
breaks that wall or lets another bird 
feed her, Mr. Hornbill goes away 
and never comes back. 

Feathered Barons in Cliff Castles 

Like many other water birds, 
penguins live in colonies. Thousands 


A Bird City 
of Sq uares 
and Streets 


congress. Se¬ 
lecting a wide 
ledge above the 
sea they fetch 
stones and lay a 
wind - break 
wall around 
three sides of a 
space that cov- 
ers several 
acres. The in- 
closure is 
marked off in 
squares, with 
streets and 
lanes. Each 
square is a nest, 
the castle of a 
pair that no 
other bird ever 
disturbs. 

A Beautiful 
Three-Roomed 
Hou se 

The shadow 
birds of South 
Africa, that 
live on marshes, 
build dome 
shaped forts, of 


come together, every 
spring, on every arctic 
sea beach, and hold a 

The Kingfisher 


room. The middle room is a pantry 
always stored with such dainties as 
fresh frogs, fish and water snakes. 
When the owner is at home he sleeps 
inside the door with his beak out. 
Like the English magpie he collects 
bright objects, bits of metal, china, 
glass and pebbles, with which to 
decorate his front door yard. 



The kingfisher lives on fish and builds its nest in 
the banks of streams and lakes. In the picture the 
bank is cut away showing you a cross-section of the 
kingfisher’s tunnel and nest. The birds spit up un¬ 
digested fish bones and form them into a cup-shaped 
nest for the pure white eggs of which there are 
usually six. 


| clay and sticks, four feet high, and 
1 strong enough for a man to stand on. 
I „ n . 7 , The one small door is on 

I Decorates the least exposed side. 
1 His Home Inside are three rooms. 

| Mama and the babies sleep on beds 
1 of leaves and grass in the inner 


w 


And There Are Bird Play Houses, Too! 1 

This sounds | 
like a fairy tale, | 
but it’s as true | 
as blue. The | 
bower birds of | 
Australia and | 
New Guinea j 
build pleasure | 
houses. For | 
b ringin g up | 
their babies | 
they have or- | 
dinary nests I 
high in the | 
trees. But on | 
the ground | 
they build sum- | 
mer houses and | 
lay out gar- j 
dens. One kind | 
builds around a | 
woody plant | 
with a stem as j 
long as a par- | 
asol. This it | 
uses for a tent | 
pole. It digs up | 
the earth [ 
around the j 
roots and piles | 
Then it makes | 
a leafy tent, using an air plant that | 
n7 ^ , will not wither (think of | 

Play Grounds ' . 1 

for Bird that!). The house is | 
Babies evergreen and water- | 

proof, nearly two feet high, with an | 
opening in front. In front the gar- g 

§ 


a cone for support. 


365 





A Bird’s Amusement Park 



This is the pleasure house or park built by Newton’s bower bird. Two trees about a yard apart 
are surrounded with twigs, as you see, until the piles meet in the middle. The piles are added to 
from year to year and one side is built higher than the other. The birds decorate the higher side 
with flowers and moss. White orchids and rock lilies are their favorites. 


llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllltlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllH 

366 







SOME CURIOUS HOMES OF ANIMALS 

A Wasp’s Apartment House 


:: 


“You will often see wasps wherever there is wood weathered to a flaky silver. They pull off 
tiny slivers, chew them to a pulp and spread the pulp to make six-sided cells, arranged in combs. 
The nests are hung, cell mouths downward, and are almost enclosed in a shell of tough gray paper.” 

On the left is the gray paper home, hanging entrance downward from a sloping roof. To the 
right, part of the outside wall has been cut away showing the layers or “apartments” of comb, sus¬ 
pended one from another upon gray naner pillars and attached to the walls of the house. 


| den is dug up and turfed with moss. 
| Scattered over it are dowers, fruits, 
| butterfly and beetles’ wings. When 
| these lose their freshness they are 
| replaced. One bower bird makes a 
1 green arch over the path to the 
| front door. The birds are about as 
| big and plain as our robins. For 
1 hours every day they work about 
| their pretty playhouses, hunting new 
| bright ornaments and carrying away 
| dead leaves and blossoms. 

H Did You Ever See a Bumble Bee’s Nest? 

Insects are just as clever home 
| builders as birds. There are solitary 
| carpenter bees that tunnel in trees, 

1 A Bee’s la y one e &g in the bot - 

| Apartment tom, put ill a SUpply of 

| House honey and pollen and fit 

| in a ceiling of sawdust and gum, as 

| thin and round as a silver dime. 

1 Another cell is made on top of that, 

| and another, until the nest is filled. 

| The Andrena bee is a miner. It 

1 sinks an up and down shaft, with 

1 chambers budding out on eithei 

| side, each holding an egg and food 

| for the baby grub. The queen bum¬ 


♦ ♦ 


ble bee living over winter, makes | 

a nest in any hollow place in a | 

clover field. She collects grass and | 

• — 

-w-. moss to hide the nest. 1 

JYLmers == 

that Live Then she makes a cluster | 

Underground Q f wax ce lls and brings | 

up a brood of babies much as the j 
honey bees do. The leaf cutting j 
bee makes a tube nest, in a hollow | 
stem, lining its ovals and circles cut j 
from tough leaves and cemented | 
together. Ants make as many kinds j 
of homes as bees. There are bur- | 
rowing wasps, too, but most wasps | 
make paper nests. | 

The Wasp’s Little Gray Paper House 

You will often see wasps about j 
old fences, barns and wherever there | 
is wood weathered to a flaky silver, j 
The Wasfs They pull off tiny sliv- | 
Front Door ers, chew them to a pulp m 

and spread the pulp to make six | 
sided cells. The cells are six sided, | 
like the bee’s wax cells, and are ar- | 
ranged in combs. 1 he nests are hung | 
from bushes and trees, cell mouths j 
downward, and are almost enclosed j 
in a shell of tough gray paper. | 


367 






....mm.mill.mm.....mm PICTURED KNOWLEDGE . mmmimmmi...mmimmmi.mmmmimii 

1 Like a Little Old Man on a Bench 


This nest or platform is sixty feet in the air in a tall tree in Borneo. Its owner, the orang-utan, 
is squatting on it with his hands clasped. Isn’t he just like a round shouldered little old man? 
The orang-utans sleep in their nests in the trees until the morning sun has dried up the dew and 
mists on the ground. 

A Mole Hill in Cross Section 


ttimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmimmimimmimmmmimiimimii 


“Under the center of a mole hill is a round room, surrounded by two circular tunnels, one above 
and smaller than the other, and connected by up and down passages. From the lower circle tun¬ 
nels run away in several directions. The little animal has a nursery where several tunnels meet.” 


368 








♦V 




The Trap-door 
| Spider That Plays 
1 “Jack-in-the-box” 

Don’t yon 
| think a Jack-in- 
| the - box amus- 
| ing? You press a 
| button, the lid 
| flies open, and 
| “Jack” pops out, 
| on springs, and 
| makes you jump. 
| There is a spider 
| that is a live 
| Jack-in-the-box. 
| It is the trap- 
| door spider. It 
| digs a hole in 
| the ground as 
| big around as a 
| penny and about 
| a foot deep, and 
| makes a cover 
1 for it of earth 




» = 


SOME CURIOUS HOMES OF ANIMALsI 


A cross-section of this bank shows how the mason near a holp cifc a 
wasp digs a branching burrow for its grubs to hatch . \ 

in. The entrance to the burrow is a mud-built tube lively little 

d , i with jagged ends. A wasp is entering the end of one , ' . . 

COD- WeDS tube. There are also holes along the sides, by which ground SCJUirrel 

that fits a s ,he wasp can 80 in and out - about as big as a 

snugly as the lid of a watch. Then woodchuck, paws folded, barking 
it lines nest and cover with silk and like a nervous little dog. 


hangs 

the door 

with 

a strong 

hin g 

e. M r s. 

Spider pops in 

and 

out of 

her 

house. 

Even 

if you 

found 

one of 

those 

; doors 

you might not 

be a 

b 1 e to 

open 

it. The 

own 

e r can 

hold 

it shut* 


The Jack-in-the-Box Spider and His Door 


with her legs 
braced against 
the walls. 


The trap-door spider “digs a hole in the ground as big 
around as a penny and about a foot deep, and makes a 
cover for it of earth and cob webs that fits as snugly as 
the lid of a watch. Then it lines nest and cover with silk 
and hangs the door with a strong hinge. . . . Even if 
you found one of those doors you might not be able to 
open it. The owner can hold it shut with her legs braced 
against the walls.” 


The Interesting Little Prairie Dog Town 

Of the little furry animals it is 


“Yap, yap, 
yap !’ ’ th ey 
yelp. But if 
you go too 
near them 
they vanish 
with saucy 
flirts of their 
tails: “Good- 
by, I have 
business be¬ 
low.” 

Don’t you 
wish you 
could follow 
them? If you 
were a brown¬ 
ie you could go with them through 
miles of tunnels, and see their cosy 
nests lined with moss and fur. And 


369 




IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH 

How a Beetle Makes a Nursery with a Leaf 


The leaf-rolling beetle begins by making queer, curved cuts at the top of a leaf. In the firs 
three pictures you can see the beetle at work. We see her rolling part of the leaf backward Th 
lower left hand picture shows one side rolled. In the last figure she is rolling the other side ove 
this and enclosing herself in the process. While she is hidden she lays her eggs. When she come 
out she tucks up the point of the leaf and fastens it down. 


370 










SOME CURIOUS HOMES OF ANIMALS 


♦♦ 


“The Dearest House of All” 


rattlesnakes live with them and make § 
trouble. When outside the prairie 1 
dogs mend their hillocks by patting | 
the earth hard. Then they sit and | 
visit and bark in the sun. | 

A Friend and a Foe 

The gopher is a kind of squirrel | 
that burrows in fields and gardens. § 
It has a dozen tunnels leading from | 

Many Roads evei T direction to a cen- | 
to His Little tral nest lined with fur | 
Home and g rasses J t p ves on | 

roots and is troublesome to farmers 1 
for it is so swift and has so many | 
ways of escape that it is seldom | 
caught. | 

The mole is the farmer’s friend | 
for it 1 ives on cut worms and beetles | 
around plant roots. Under the cen- | 
ter of a mole hill is a round room, | 

The Mole’s surrounded by two cir- | 
Mysterious cular tunnels, one above 1 
Middle Room anc j smaller than the | 

other, and connected by up and | 
down passages. From the lower cir- | 

Water Voles at the Doors of Their Homes § 


“The dearest house of all is the nest ot a field 
mouse. ... If you ever found the nest you 
would be sure to think it had been built by a 
bird and filled up with loose grasses. It is a 
couple of feet from the ground fastened to 
grasses, is as big as a goose egg and woven of 
grasses in a ball. You would see no opening at 
all. but from five to nine thimble babies are 
packed away inside. Mama and papa mouse can 
push the grass aside anywhere to get in and 
out, and the hole closes again at once.” 

maybe you would find out where 
they get water. Some think these 
little animals dig wells. Owls and 


The water vole is a species of field mouse that §| 
lives in swampy places. It builds a long burrow || 
at the end of which is a nest lined with down M 
where the babies are hidden. Can you find the M 
entrance to two burrows in the picture? 


IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIW^ 


37i 





























gfllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllH 

Sweet Little Home of the Field Mouse 

The dearest home of all is the nest | 
of a field mouse. Little bright-eyes | 
of the meadows, this tiny animal is | 
only two and one-half inches long, | 
tail and all; only one-sixth the size j 

Little Brown of a house mouse. He is | 
Man in the red-brown with a white g 
White Vest vestj anc i i s so cunning j 

when he sits up on a grass stem to | 
wash his face, or to eat the kernel | 
of corn that makes a meal for him! | 
If you ever found the nest you | 
would be sure to think it had been | 
built by a bird and filled up with g 
loose grass. It is a couple of feet | 
from the ground, fastened to grass- j 
es, is as big as a goose egg and | 
woven of grasses in a ball. You | 
would see no opening at all, but g 
from five to nine thimble babies are | 
packed away inside. Mama and | 
papa mouse can push the grass aside | 
anywhere to get in and out, and the j 
hole closes again at once. And then | 
the little family of field mice is safe j 
in its cosy, round home, as snug as j 
the apple in a dumpling. 



cle, tunnels run away in several di¬ 
rections. What the middle room is 
for, no one knows. The little ani¬ 
mal sleeps in one of the passages, 
and has a nursery where several 
tunnels meet. 


Clever Caterpillars 

We will tell you about seal, beav¬ 
ers, water spiders and nest building 
fish in another story. There are just 
two more that we have room for 
here. 

You have seen the nests of tent 
caterpillars, haven’t you? A big 
colony of caterpillars enclose a 
branch of a tree in a web of silk, eat 
the leaves there and spin their co¬ 
coons. Birds could easily tear that 
web in pieces and gobble up the 
squirmers, but they do not seem to 
rt . ,-n know it. In Mexico a 

C aterpi liars 

that Live colony of caterpillars 
m a ‘Bottle weave a bottle shaped 

bag of a parchment paper, as tough 
as a wasp’s nest. It has a small 
opening at the bottom. Inside, the 
pupas are hung up by the tails. 


372 



* 


*♦ 


^'IHIIIIIIItllllllllllilllllllllllllllllltllllllllllllllllltllltllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllMilfllltlltMIIIIIIIIMIlltlillltMIIIIIIIttllllllllllltllllllllllllftllllllllldllllllllllllllllllllllllMIMItlllllllllllllllllllllllail'j? 

How a Fish Swims 


B 


H 


OW does a fish 

swim? That’s 

easier done than 

said. The easy, 

graceful way in 

which a fish seems 

to move through 

the water is reallv 

* 

quite complicated. 

You will say that a 
fish swims with his 
fins. It would be 
more nearly true to 
say that a fish swims 
with one fin and 
steers himself with the others. For it 
is by the use of his big tail fin that 
the fish can dart rapidly about, jump 
into the air and swim steadily 
against a swift current or through 
big waves. 

Water animals, like the whale, use 
an up and down stroke of the tail 
in swimming, but most fish move 
their tails from side to side. For 
example, a stroke to the right is 
taken with the tail partly or wholly 
folded, then the return stroke back to 
a straight line is stronger and push- 



Switching His Tail for You 

Little Friend Fish is here showing 
you how he swims. The line AB indi¬ 
cates the center of his back. His “cen¬ 
ter of gravity” (see dictionary) is at c. 
The lines d-a and e-a show the motion 
of the strokes that drive him forward. 
The lines c-h and c-i show .how the fish 
swims in a zig-zag and not straight 
ahead. 


es the fish forward 
through the water 
obliquely to the left. 
A mild stroke of the 
tail to the left is fol¬ 
lowed by a strong 
stroke back to a 
straight line again, 
which carries the fish 
forward a little to 
the right. So really 
the fish travels not in 
a straight line, but in 
a zigzag. Watch a 
gold fish and see. 
the sides of a fish’s 
supplied with such 


The fins on 
body are not 
large muscles as those which control 
the tail fin. The chief use of the other 
fins is in balancing and turning. 
They are rudders and paddles which 
the fish uses to keep his course 
straight. By spreading them out or 
closing them, giving the water an 
occasional stroke with them, he keeps 
his nose pointed toward the place he 
is swimming toward, and relies on 
the strong back sweep of his tail for 
speed. 






373 














Coffer Fish 


You might think this a Hallowe’en mask, but it isn’t. It’s his face! One of the strangest of the 
water animals, he is called the coffer fish. He may not even know how to play Hallowe’en things at 
all but evidently he likes to play blowing bubbles. Watch him do it. 


374 






WATER ANIMALS 


Some Strange Water Animals 


Crab and the Boarder 
that Lives on the Roof 


Knf§ 


“The strangest partnership of all is that of the sea anemone and the hermit crab. The 
crab gets a house by eating a shell fish and then backing into the shell. On the roof a sea 
anemone takes up its home. The crab feeds its companion by pushing up dainty morsels 
with its claws. When the crab outgrows its house and is obliged to move it pries off its 
flower-like ‘chum’ and helps it to move too!” 


its ten inch slits of nostrils, in a 
dozen snorts, gulps as many deep 
breaths and drops below the sur¬ 
face. 


HEN 


you go swimming do 
▼ * you dive? And how long 
can you hold your breath under 
water? About half a minute? 
That would make a whale laugh. 
Just imagine a laugh sixteen 
feet wide! Why, a whale can 

A Mouth as dive tW0 0r three 
Wide as a hundred feet, and stay 

City Street down forty minutes! 
But it does not do that unless it 
is trying to get away from a boat 
load of whalers with cruel har¬ 
poons. Usually it comes to the 
surface every ten minutes, blows 
the vapor from its lungs, through 


Why a Whale is Not a Fish 

It is a pity a whale is such a 
big animal, often eighty feet 
long, that it cannot be kept in an 
a-quar-ium, or water museum, 
for it is so interesting. It is not 
a fish but a warm-blooded mam¬ 
mal, or milk giving animal. You 
should see a mother whale nurs¬ 
ing her twelve foot baby, just as 
bossy cow nurses her calf. To 



375 































































....... PICTURED KNOWLEDGE .mm.mil.min.....mini.inning 


keep its red blood warm a big whale 
has a two foot blanket of fat under 
its skin. 

Wouldn’t you think such an 
“e- nor- mous” 
big animal 
would live o n 
huge fish like 
the cod? But its 
throat is only 
an inch and a 
half wide. As it 
swims along, 
mouth open, as 
fast as a horse 
can trot, little 
soft-shelled fish 
and minnows 
float in. They 
cannot get out 
again. From the 
roof of the 
whale’s mouth a 
fringe of flex¬ 
ible whalebones 
falls to either 
side, like a stiff 
feather, making 
astrainer. These 
whale bones 
often weigh two 
tons! 

Some whales 
travel alone, but 
the twenty-foot 
white whales 
swim in schools. 

Like their little 
cousins,the dol¬ 
phins or por¬ 
poises, they fro¬ 
lic in the water. They leap over and 
chase each other. A big whale can 
smash a boat with his twenty-five 
foot wide tail, pull out half a mile 
of heavy cable “fishing line,” and 
sometimes break it. 


is that, although it has no more hair 
on its elephant-like hide than an old 
rubber boot, it has whiskers like a 

Sea Lions, Dogs 
and Horses 

The seal has 
whiskers too, 
but it has the 
long - muzzled 
head of a dog, 
the velvety fur 
of the beaver 
and the webbed 
feet of a duck. 
A seal can stay 
under water fif¬ 
teen minutes. 
After a long 
swim it likes to 
come up on the 
ice, rocks or 
sand and sleep 
in the sun. 

In many city 
parks sea lions, 
which are really 
our fur seal, are 
kept in deep 
ponds with high 
iron fences 
around them. 
Once a day the 
keeper feeds 
them with good 
sized fish. They 
smell those fish 
before you do. 
Out of the wa¬ 
ter they scram¬ 
ble onto a rocky 
island. They wriggle and shuffle 
and jump on their flipper feet. They 
bark and grunt and squeal and bleat. 
And they catch the fish in their 
mouths as cleverly as boys catch 
balls. They know their names when 
called. 


The funniest thing about a whale 


:: 


♦ ♦ 


The Monarch of the Sea 



Although not so large as some of the whales—he 
only weighs about 110 tons—the sperm whale is re¬ 
garded as the monarch of the waters because of his 
heroic character and his majestic appearance. He 
never looks for trouble, but will fight anything that 
attacks him. When poised upright in the water, as 
you see him in this picture, he looks like a column of 
black marble. On the opposite page he is having a 
lively dispute with another huge ocean creature, the 
octopus. 

Isn’t it curious that such a big, ugly thing as an 
octopus should have the same kind of feet—that is to 
say, sucker feet—as the little flies that, by means of 
their sucker feet, can walk as well upside down as 
right side up—and on slippery window panes, too? 

That lower jaw of the whale is a shaft of solid bone 
about 30 feet in length and has between fifty and sixty 
back-curling teeth in it. 


376 



A Dispute With the Monarch of the Deep 




Here the sperm whale is having a dispute with an octopus. The octopus is using his powerful 
arms and his sucker feet in the struggle. 

In the foreground is one of a school of sharks who are also attacking the cuttlefish. Sharks do 
this just as jackals follow lions on their haunts in the hope of “sitting at the second table.” 





**jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii pictured KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiihhhihiiihhihihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiii'iibii^ 


The Whale is Attacking the Men 



In the Antarctic Ocean there is a species of whales called “killer whales” because they attack and 
kill other creatures for food. The picture shows one of them trying to roll a party of men off 
from an ice floe on which they are adrift. 


Think of the noise a hundred 
thousand of these animals must 
make when they come together on 
an island in the Behring Sea. The 
babies are born on land. Each 
mother, who is about as large as a 
big dog, has one or two babies. Old 
bull seal are often eight feet long, 
weigh eight hundred pounds and are 
as cross as bears. The woolly babies 
are afraid of the water and have to 
be taught how to swim. If you 
should go among them the seal 
would crowd around you, just 

Water Babies burstin g with curiosity 
that Fear about such an animal as 

the Water you. If you played to 

them on a flute or violin they would 
sit as still as mice. 

In the winter seal live in the 
water. Each one keeps an air hole 
open in the ice. Above this hole a 
den is formed in the snow. The 
baby seal sleeps there and the 


mother brings it dainty bits of food. 

The walrus belongs to the same 
family as the seal and sea lion, but 
it is three times as big, weighing as 
much as an ox. It has no fur, but 
it has ivory tusks two feet long. It 
uses these to climb with, to pull sea 
weeds, to dig clams and to fight the 
polar bear. The bear turns tail and 
runs from these armed sea horses. 
Really the w r alrus is rather ill-tem¬ 
pered. I don’t for one minute be¬ 
lieve that 

“The walrus and the carpenter 

Were walking hand in hand” 

as the poem says, in “Alice in Won¬ 
derland. ” It would never be as 
friendly as that. 

Fish Man-Eaters and Pirates 

But the walrus is simply a bully, 
like a surly dog. And there are 
tigers in the sea. They are great 
blood-thirsty fish thirty-five feet 


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378 













8 


SOME STRANGE WATER ANIMALS 


long. They have mouths and throats 
big enough to swallow a man whole, 
and the mouths are full of rows and 
rows of sharp saw-like teeth two 
inches long. 

These are sharks. There are 
twenty varieties of them and they 
live in every warm ocean in the 
world. Not one of them is of anv 

j 

use, but they are the tigers, wild¬ 
cats, vultures and hawks of the deep. 
They eat millions of good food 
fishes. Dog fish bite holes in fish 
nets. Big sharks follow ships to 
feed on food thrown overboard. 
Regular man-eaters prowl around 
tropic beaches, so that it is danger¬ 
ous for people to go in bathing. They 
can jump ten feet out of water and 
drag fish out of a boat. They can 
upset boats w r ith blows from their 
tails. A chain line is the only one 
that can hold them for they can bite 
rope cables in two. 


The sword fish is the pirate of 
warm and temperate waters. It ought 
to carry a black flag. It often 
weighs two hundred and fifty 
pounds. The upper jaw is elongated 
into a double-edged sword as hard 
as steel. Sometimes the sw^ord fish 
plunges its weapon through the oak 

The Fish planks and copper plates 
that Carries of a boat and breaks it 
a Sword off. jt probably thinks 

the boat a whale or shark. It uses 
its sword to kill food. On the coast 
of Maine this pirate swaggers about 
in a school of pretty mackerel, slay¬ 
ing right and left. Turning on its 
back it picks up the pieces. No 
sharks or sword fish can be kept in 
a museum a-quar-ium. 

Nest Builders Under the Water 

In the big glass pond of the 
aquarium in New York City, you 
can watch many kinds of fish build 


The Walrus at Home 


T 


a** 




■ 


“The walrus belongs to the same family as the seal and sea lion, but it is three times as big, 
weighing as much as an ox. It has no fur but it has ivory tusks two feet long It uses these to 
climb with, to pull sea weeds, to dig clams and to fight the polar bear. 




379 





. .mu ... ilium . hi PICTURED KNOWLEDGE .nm...mm.. 

| Young Seals at Play 



Here you see two young elephant seals at play. As they get older their noses will develop into 
curved snouts, the shape of an elephant’s trunk but shorter and thicker. 


their nests. They behave so like 
birds that you half expect to hear 
them sing. The sun fish of our 
quiet rivers is a nest builder. A pair 
go together, as loving as blue birds, 
pull up stems, carry and sweep away 
pebbles and scoop a hollow in the 
sand. The eggs are laid there under 
a bower of water weeds, and 
watched. Often a colony of nests is 
formed, especially if meddlesome 
cat fish are about. 

The stickleback, of both fresh and 
salt water, is the weaving oriole and 
spinning spider of the deep. The 
male fish that is as dainty as a 
trout, weaves a cylinder nest, open 
at both ends, of water stems and 
grasses, and binds it fast to a stout 
plant. He shapes the inside by 

Family Life pushing through and 
of the wriggling around, and 

Sticklebacks glues everything togeth¬ 
er with a gelatin thread from his 
own body. He lets mama lay the 


eggs, but she amuses herself while 
papa guards the eggs and babies 
for a month. 

Out in the Atlantic Ocean is a 
big seaweed island called the Sar¬ 
gasso Sea. There the an-ten-nar-i- 
us, another spinning fish, makes a 

FhatmgNests bal1 nest of weeds . and 
of the gluey threads as big as 

Sargasso Sea a baby’s head. The 

eggs and little fish are safe inside, 
while the ball buds and blooms and 
floats like a cork. 

There may be air in it. One very 
curious fish nest is made of air- 
filled bubbles. The male fish comes 
to the surface and gobbles a lot of 
air. Then he blows it out, as you 
blow soap bubbles. He makes his 

Blowing own soa P> and a tough 

Soafi Bubbles mucus or spittal that last 
for the Bahes f ort iays. The nest is a 

cluster of bubbles like a bunch of 
grapes. It floats on the water. 
When the baby fish are hatched 


..........1.......mm,. 


380 


A Fish Without Eyes 



This is the proteus, a fish that lives in the pitch dark, underground rivers of the Alps. It has two dark spots on each side of its head 
where the eyes would be if it had them. It is almost white, with bright red gills and is shaped like a snake, you see. Its fins are more like 
rudimentary limbs. 




:Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiw^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinii^ 


A River Nest-Builder 



The bow-tin, an inhabitant of our own American rivers, builds a nest among the weeds for a 
nursery. Like the stickleback, the male fish plays nurse. Here you see him near the nest. He 
is about a foot and a half long. 


| they eat the bubbles. A water spider 
| weaves a silk balloon, anchors it to a 
| stout weed and then fills it with air. 

| The Water There ' S a d ° 0r at the 

I Seder's SilTt bottom, but the water 
| Balloon cannot push the air out 

| and get in. The spider brings up 
| her family here and in the winter 
| closes the opening as if it were a 
| diving bell and goes to sleep in it. 

Keeping Boarders Under Water 

Did you ever find a red crab, as 
| small as a garden spider, in an 
| oyster stew? These tiny, soft- 
| shelled fish, unable to defend them- 
| selves, take refuge in the pearl-lined 
| houses of the oysters. They pay 
| room rent by dragging food in with 
| their claw r s, and live peaceably with 
| their hosts. No doubt they could 
| dig into the oyster’s soft body, but 
| they don’t. Other boarders are not 


♦,* 

*♦ 


so con-sid-er-ate. Sucker-like bar¬ 
nacles often cover the big, helpless 
Tf ie whale; and the terrible 

Ugly Shark shark has a little pilot 
and His Pilot to g U i(] e him, and to 

cling like a leech to his ugly, blue, 
scaleless back and chalk white stom¬ 
ach. 

All the clumsy sea cucumbers 
have boarders. A big black one on 
the coral reefs off Florida has a six 
inch eel, as clear as glass, rooming 
in its air holes, and going in and 
out as it pleases, as if it had a latch 
key. The sea anemones, star fishes 
and many jelly-fishes “have timid 
little friends that run to them for 
shelter’’ when in danger. 

But the strangest partnership of 
all is that of a sea anemone and the 
hermit crab. The crab gets a house 
by catching and eating a shell fish 
and then backing into the shell. On 

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 


82 


*.♦ 

♦♦ 










SOME STRANGE 

| the point of the ribbed, tent-like roof, 
| a sea anemone takes up its home, 
j I he crab feeds its companion by 

I How the Crab P ushin S up dainty mor- 
i Furnishes the sels with its claw. When 

| Table the cj-ab outgrows its 

| house, and is obliged to move, it 

| pries off its flower-like chum and 
| helps it to move, too. 

| Lamp Bearers, Electric 
1 Batteries and Ink 
1 Throwers 

| One of the pretti- 
| est things you could 
| see, in crossing the 
| ocean, would be a 

1 Little Fish broad 
H that Carry track Ot 
“5\ batches ’ f i e T V 

| foam in the wake of 
| the ship. The light 
| is made by billions 
| of tiny jelly fish that 
| you cannot see in the 
| daytime. But they 
| are full of the same 
| phos-pho-rus that is 
| on the heads of 
| matches. After 
| night-fall they make 
| the sea shine; and 
| many a weed draped 
| cliff drips with molt- 
| en gold in the moon- 

I “ Ocean Lin - 1 ' S h *■ 

H ers Under Other 
| the Sea fish l iave 

| phos - phor - es - cent 
| spots, as fire flies 
| have under their 
| wings. One carries 
| a head-light and one 
| hundred and six side lights, like an 
| ocean liner. Some corals and anem- 
| ones shine, and deep-sea crabs have 
| stalked and flaming eyes like auto- 
| mobile lamps. The cyanea, a large 


WATER ANIMALS 

jelly fish, is a fiery green comet, 
with a disc and tail, a meteor shoot¬ 
ing through the water. 

You have heard of the electric 

Fish that eel > haven’t you? It lives 
Carry Elec- on the tropic coast of 
trie Batteries South America. A 

snake-like fish often twenty feet 
long, it can knock down a man with 

A Fish that Climbs Trees 


♦ ♦ 


This is the bommi fish of western Africa.. It hatches its young- 
in the water, but it can climb trees that grow along the river bank 
and it likes to lie for hours on shore or on the protruding roots of 
a mangrove tree, with its tail just dabbling in the water. Its fore- 
fins have developed into a kind of arms, as you see, with webbed 
fingers. The hind-fins have a sucker-like attachment for clinging. 
The bommi fish has no gills but it is thought that its tail, which is 
particularly well supplied with blood-vessels, in some way keeps 
the blood supplied with oxygen. 


an electric shock. Under the tail are 
four batteries as perfect as the one 
that rings your door bell. There 
are nine varieties of electrical fish. 
One of them is the torpedo, found on 


383 








a 




*,♦ 

*♦ 


♦♦ 


:* 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


8 


The Sea-Serpent of the Fairy Tales 


Cuttle fish, squids and | 
the argonauts or shellfish j 
sailors, are ink throwers. | 
The devil fish is a squid. j 
It has a central body all j 
eyes and stomach, and ten j 
snake-like arms. When j 
the animal is attacked it | 
rpj ie darkens the j 

Ink Factories Water with a |i 
of the Deef b 1 a c k fluid I 

and escapes. The eight- g 
armed octopus can drench | 
a fisherman with jetty ink. | 
But the shellfish make a | 
beautiful purple or violet | 
ink. Away over in the | 
Mediterranean Sea are | 
great numbers of them | 
that are little royal purple | 
dye spots. Centuries ago | 
the people of the splendid | 
city of Tyre used these | 

1 For a long time it was believed that the fabled sea-serpents mnlluckc II 

H of the fairy stories were a myth, but now it is known that there IIU 11UbK ^ LU '-v c Llieir P UI " =j 

| really were such monsters as these. pl e sails, and the royal | 

I our Atlantic Coast. It has robes of emperors. 

I two hundred little batteries The Beautiful Argonaut 

| on its body. The spots look 
| like oval inlayings of 
| mother-of-pearl. The tor- 
| pedoes often shock fisher- 
| men that try to catch them. 

| Another curious electric 
| fish is the physalia. It is 
| really a colony of animals, 

| a jelly-like mass of blue 
| worms squirming from a 
| rich balloon-like body„ Sar- 
| dines, and other little fish 
| that think those blue tent- 
| acles good to eat are killed 
| by the shock and folded 
| into the central stomach. 

s Here is the argonaut peeping out of 
H its paper-like shell. The female builds 
^ this shell for her eggs by letting a 
|i gummy liquid ooze from her arms or 
j§ tentacles. The argonaut has eight 
M tentacles in all, and two green eves. 

| Its prevailing color is a beautiful deep blue but it changes like a chameleon to black, lavender, rose. 

H It can creep along the sea floor or swim through the water by blowing water out of its mouth. 


384 






^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim SOME STRANGE WATER ANIMALS iiiiiiiiniiim^ 


Betwixts and Betweens 

You know that frogs live partly 
in the water, partly out. Many 
animals do that—the beaver and 
muskrat, the seal and walrus, tur¬ 
tles and snakes, the crocodile and 
alligator. One of the oddest ones 
Mole, Duck is the duckbill, or water 
and Fid, mole, of Australia. It 

in One i r i • i i 

has iur like a beaver, 
webbed feet and a bill like a duck. 
It lays eggs like a bird or turtle, is 
cold-blooded like a fish, and it makes 
a tunnel house in a bank like a 
mole. 

These water-land animals are 
clever about solving difficulties. Eels 
wriggle across a marsh to distant 


pools. A New Zealand goby leaves | 
the sea to catch clams on the beach. | 
Crabs in the West Indies march | 

Water <Peof>1e overland in big armies, j 
that Travel in the night. It really 1 
on Land j s no queerer for a fish jj 

to walk on its fins through grass | 
than for a land-nesting bird to dive, | 
swim and feed under water. But it | 
seems queerer, and it makes us all | 
think: j 

Where do furry animals, feath- | 
ered birds, scaly fish and little boys | 

and girls begin to be, and where do | 
they leave off and begin to be some- | 
thing else? | 

“That,” as a wee lady baby said, 1 

“is the puzzle of it.” | 


The Whale 

a npHE inhabitant of another planet descending towards ours in a 
balloon and surveying it from a vast height, would say to him¬ 
self, “The only creatures that I can discover there are from one hundred 
to two hundred feet long, their arms are only twenty feet long, but their 
superb tail, thirty feet, magnificently beats the sea, and enables them to 
advance with a speed and a majestic ease which make it very evident that 
they are the sovereigns of that planet.” 

And by and by he would add : “It is a great pity that the solid part of 
that globe should be deserted, or at best peopled only by creatures so 
small that they are invisible. Apparently the sea alone is inhabited and 
by a kind and gentle race. Here the family is held in honor, the mother 
nurses and suckles her young ones with tenderness, and although her 
arms are very short she contrives during the raging of the tempest to pro¬ 
tect her little one by pressing it to her vast body.”— Michelet: The Sea. 




:*i 


III 


♦ ♦ 


385 




The Pearl in the Oyster Shell 



This curious pearl was found in an oyster shell off the coast of Australia. It is two inches long. 
Most pearls vary in size between that of a pea and a mustard seed. 


386 







THE HOW AND WHY 
OF COMMON THINGS 

HOW PEARLS ARE FORMED 


The “pearl coast” of Asia might well be bound with a rope of lustrous, white pearl 
beads. Divers, yellow and brown and white, have been bringing up the ocean gems 
for centuries. 


P EARLS are found in the 

shells of sea and fresh water 
oysters and other shell fish. They 
are made of a limy secretion of 
the animal, the same material that 
lines the shells. This nacre or 
mother-of-pearl is formed of thin 
plates, or skins, one over another, 
very smooth, semi-transparent, 
and with a wonderful play of col¬ 
ors like the opal. Sometimes a 
rr n . grain of sand, or oth- 

l rouble in ’ 

‘Their Little ' er foreign body gets 
Insides inside a shell and 

scratches the soft body of the oys¬ 
ter. If unable to dislodge the 
particle, the animal encloses it in 
nacre. A few pearls have been 
found two inches in diameter, but 




/ 




most are the size of peas or mus¬ 
tard seeds. They are round, but¬ 
ton shaped or pear shaped, and of 
all colors from jet black to pure 
white, with all shades of pink, 
lavender and smoke. Next to 
white in beauty are those that are 
rose-colored. The value of a 
pearl depends upon size, shape, 
color, luster and freedom from 
flaws. Because it is hard to find 
any two exactly alike, matched 
pearls in a necklace have an add¬ 
ed value. Fine black pearls are 
found off the coast of Lower Cal¬ 
ifornia, and fresh water pearls in 
the Mississippi River and in its 
tributaries, and in several Euro¬ 
pean rivers. 




SUN 






























PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


The mother-of-pearl linings of 
shells are used for making but¬ 
tons, pen and knife handles, and 
in many ornamental ways. 

The greatest pearl fisheries in 
the world are in the Persian Gulf 

In a Prison of Pearl 


On His Way to Work 


This picture shows how a small eel-like fish, 
called the fierasfer, which found its way into 
an oyster shell, has been covered up with the 
nacre and so enclosed in a “prison of pearl.” 

and off the Island of Ceylon. The 
pearl-bearing oysters are brought 

The EBusiness U P h Y d ' VerS - ° Ur iU 

of Diving lustration shows one 
for Dearls Q f these divers on his 

way to work. You notice he is 

holding his nose just as boys 

sometimes do when they dive. But 

* 

he is holding it with what looks 
to be a clothes pin. These nose 
clasps are worn by the Arab di¬ 
vers in the Ceylon oyster fields. 
They are made of flexible horn. 
On his right foot you see the 
diver has an oval-shaped stone 
with a kind of stirrup attached to 
it through a hole in the stone. 
Into this stirrup he fits his right 
foot while his left rests on the 
basket he is taking down with him 
to gather the oyster shells, just as 
you would take a basket to gather 
blackberries. This basket is made 
of rope. 

A Deep Breath and Down He Goes 

Just before he starts down the 
diver draws a deep breath— 


388 






















9 


THE PEARL INDUSTRY 


♦,* 

♦♦ 


enough to last him on his journey 
down and up again—much as a 
camel takes in a good supply of 
water before he starts across the 
desert where he will not get a new 
supply for some time. 


ply of breath is getting too low for 
safety, he pulls the rope as a signal 
and is hauled up by his helper in 
the boat above. Our sea divers work 
in much the same way, but not with 
such crude devices. 


Queensland Pearls—Exact Size 


Here are some Australian pearls of great size and beauty. The picture shows the exact size of 
the pearls. Notice that some of them are not round, but egg-shaped. 


As soon as he gets down* he slips 
his foot out of the stirrup and hur¬ 
ries over the bottom just as fast as 
possible, tugging loose all the oys¬ 
ters he can and throwing them into 
the basket. 

Just before he feels that his sup- 


The diver goes down every five or 
six minutes. Just before each dive 
he dries his body carefully so that 
he will not take cold and get the 
cramps. 

How long do you suppose a diver 
can stay under water*! If you should 




IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII1IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM 

At Work in the Pearl-Oyster-Beds § 



Here you see two kinds of pearl divers working side by side—the naked natives, who stay down 
hardly more than a minute, and the divers in regulation diving dress. You can read all about them 
in our story about divers. Both are using iron scrapers to dig the oysters from their resting- 
places. Notice the electric lamp held by one diver. 




39 ° 

























^ii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii]iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiini! PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiim 

| How the Oyster Makes the Pearl I 


“Mother-of-pearl is formed of thin plates, or skins, 
parent, and with a wonderful play of colors, like the 
foreign body gets inside a shell and scratches the soft 
the particle, the animal encloses it in nacre.” 

read the works of the 
old travelers you 
would think that the 
diver could stay un¬ 
der water an “awful” 
time. The farther 
back you go in these 
old writers the long¬ 
er they stay. For ex¬ 
ample, a traveler who 
wrote a few years 
after our Revolution¬ 
ary W a r, told of a 
diver who could stay 
under six minutes. 

But back in 1667 a re¬ 
port of the Royal So¬ 
ciety of London tells 
how these pearl men,, 
of Ceylon could keep 
under a quarter of an 
hour. If you go back 
as far as the travelers 






one over another, very smooth, semi-trans¬ 
opal. Sometimes a grain of sand or other 
body of the oyster. If unable to dislodge 


of 1336 you find those 
who say that “some 
remained down an 
hour, others two 
hours.” 

This does not mean 
that the travelers and 
scientific men of other 
days were untruthful. 
It simply means that 
scientific men have 
learned to be much 
more careful about 
what they write—not 
taking mere rumors, 
or working on theory 
alone, but investigat¬ 
ing carefully. 

The fact is, these 
pearl divers can stay 
at the bottom from a 
minute to a minute 
and a half. 




391 













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1 I “SPICE AND OTHER THINGS NICE" ! | 

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= ( ( 


W E USE a great many things 
to give pleasant flavors to 
food. They have no food value, 
and we could get along very well 
without them. But we like them so 
much that vessels sail and steam 
away to all sorts of queer, out of the 
way corners of the earth to get them. 
Pepper is the seed of a climbing vine 

Different that . g r0WS in the EaSt 

Kinds India Islands, and on the 

of ‘Peffer coasts. You can buy 
black or brown seeds that are as 
large as a small pea and grind your 
own pepper, if you have a spice mill. 
White pepper is made by treating 
the seeds in special ways when they 
are being cured. Red pepper, or 
“cayenne,” or “paprika” are alto¬ 
gether different. They are made 
from the dried seed pod of the chilli 
that grows in Guiana, South Amer¬ 
ica. They are something like the 
pepper plants of our gardens, only 
much hotter. 

The nutmeg that is so good in 
doughnuts, custards and apple pies, 
grows on a tree, something like a 
pear tree. The fruit is as big and 

For Dough- P rett y as an apricot. 
nuts,Custards When the pulp is 
and Pies washed away a single 

spicy, oily seed is found wrapped in 
a bright red skin. This skin is re¬ 
moved, dried separately and called 
mace.” The nutmeg tree is grown 
in orchards in the East and West 
Indies, and in Brazil. 

Cloves are not seeds, but flowers. 
Wouldn’t you like to smell a clove 
orchard in bloom in Zanzibar? The 
flowers are tiny crimson, four- 
petaled blossoms on a short stem. 
Dried in the wood smoke, they 


turn brown and tough. Cinnamon is 
the bark of a big tree, a native of 
Ceylon, but grown in many hot 

Where the countries. The thin out- 
Clove Orch- er bark is peeled off, 
ards ‘Bloom every year, like birch 

bark, and dried in rolls. Ginger is 
a root, or buried stem of a low, an¬ 
nual plant. The best in our market 
comes from Jamaica. When the 
tops die the ginger “root” is dug up, 
cleaned, dried and ground. Some 
is made into an extract by drip¬ 
ping alcohol through it. The Chi¬ 
nese preserve ginger and candy it. 

Doesn’t vour mama like a tin box 
* 

of Chinese ginger for Christmas? 
Mustard is made from the seeds of 
the mustard plant that grows wild 
all over America and Europe, and 
is cultivated. And did you ever eat 
“curry” in a chicken stew? Curry 
powder is made of a mixture of 
queer spices—turmeric, poppy seeds, 
curry leaves, anise seeds, mustard, 
chilli peppers, mace, saffron and 
many other things all ground to¬ 
gether. India has forty different 
kinds of curry powders. 

Vanilla is a bean that grows in 
long pods, on an air plant vine, in 
tropical America. The vine is pret¬ 
ty, with waxy stems and leaves, and 

Vanilla slender pods as- long as 

and Other a banana. The dried 
Extracts beans are ground, and 

alcohol is filtered through to make 
vanilla extract. In the same way 
extracts are made of wintergreen 
berries, peppermint leaves, the rinds 
of lemons and oranges, the seeds of 
bitter almonds and pistachio nuts, 
peach kernels and other fruits. 


♦V 


♦ 4 


392 


f§-7“ 


LINE 



IN THE GREAT 
WORLD OF NATURE 


BEES 


Hoixey 



“When they had all they could carry the bees circled straight upward and made a ‘bee 
line’ for home, even if a mile away. How they did it is a mystery. They dropped to the 
hive, never missing the small opening by an inch.” 

The Queen was in the parlor, 

Eating bread and honey.” 


M AYBE it was only honey. 

But she did not like being 
shut up in her parlor, all alone. 
She was a pretty, long-bodied 
queen bee who had just crawled 
from her pupa case cradle. The 
parlor was an inch high, a third 
of an inch wide and pear or bot¬ 
tle-shaped. The walls were of 
varnished wax, with no opening. 
It was as dark as your pocket in 

ne Royal that P® 1 **- T *’ ere 
Prisoner in Was nO doubt about 

Her Parlor its being a prison, for 
the queen had turned ’round and 
’round in it and had found neith¬ 
er a window, nor a thin place that 
she could break through. Sud¬ 
denly a hole appeared in the ceil¬ 



ing. She pushed her head up, 
and put her long trunk or lick¬ 
ing lip through the hole. 

“Squeak!” she complained, in 
a piping voice. “Please, I want 
to get out.” 

A drop of honey was put on 
her lip by a maid of honor, one 
of a circle of worker bees that 
guarded the hole. Another and 
another drop trickled down until 
she had had enough. Then she 
cried out again. 

“Hsh-sh-sh !” She was caressed 
and soothed by the antennae, or 
feelers of her anxious attendants. 

“Squeak, squeak, squeak!” The 
food had made the little queen 
stronger. 


393 












































S^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiii!iiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiii!iin PICTURED KNOWLEDGE jiiiiiiiiiihii^^^ 

| The Three Classes of Society in the Bee State j 





Here are the ruler, laborer, and gentleman of leisure in the bee country. A is the queen bee and 
mother of the hive. Her business is the laying of eggs. B shows the worker bee, an imperfect 
female. These members of the bee community do all the work of the hive and really control the 
affairs of state. C is the drone or male bee. He is a wealthy idler, kept in luxury by the workers 
but also killed by them when summer is over and the food supply must be hoarded. 


“Oh, please be quiet, your maj- 
| esty. The old queen will hear you 
| and come to kill you.” 

What a Cross Old Queen! 

| “What’s all this noise about?” 

The old queen bustled up, flutter- 
| ing her small wings and dragging 
| her long, egg-filled abdomen be¬ 
ll hind her. 


I laid the eggs from which every¬ 
one of you were hatched. Just let me 
get at that little upstart!” A dozen 
n d of the guard of honor 

L£ueen Dees ° 

pushed her, nipped her 
legs, pulled her about 
in her way. They did 
not hurt her, for they loved their 
old queen, but she was forced back, 
angry and baffled. The new queen 


Have Such 
Tempers! 

and got 


How Bees Do without Electric Fans 



These bees are at the entrance of the hive fanning the air with their wings. “The air inside 
a dark, close beehive is as sweet and fresh as the air outside” because the bees keep it in motion. 
This is the only work that the drones do and they only help the workers at it. In hot weather 
a regular army of bees work in shifts at the fanning, relieving each other from time to time. 


“Fe, fi, fo, jum! I smell the blood was angry, too. If the old queen I 
| of a rival. So you are tired of your wanted to fight, why, she was ready 1 
| old queen? Ungrateful children! for the fray. 



394 





^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim XHE BUSY HONEY BEE niiiiiuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiin 


In the Bee’s Wax Factory 



The first picture shows a festoon of workers clinging to each other while the wax-forming 
process goes on. They hang like this for twenty-four hours at a time. On the right is a larger 
mass of wax producers. A high temperature is necessary for the formation of the wax, and for 
this reason the bees cling together in a big bunch just as children cuddle together in bed on a 
cold night. The center picture shows a worker producing wax. You can see the plates of wax 
appearing between the segments of the bee’s abdomen. A worker bee must eat from sixteen to 
twenty pounds of honey in order to produce one pound of wax. 


The whole hive was excited. The 
temperature suddenly went up to 
over a hundred in the shade, for the 
blood of angry and excited bees gets 
n tt . . hot. The lazy blunt 
They Started bodied male drones 
the Fans! went out to loaf on the 

roof in the sunshine. Some little 
worker bees came to the low door 
and fanned the air into the hive 
with their wings. Inside, other bees 
fanned bad air out. Such a hum¬ 
ming noise as though electric fans 
were whirring! 

Things quieted down, but all work 
was stopped. The prisoner cried 
piteously. The maids of honor 
petted and fed her through the hole. 
The old queen sulked and made 
rushes, and darted about trying to 
find other royal cells. If there were 
any, they were guarded. By and 
by she brightened with an idea. 

The Old Queen Resolves on Exile 

“There are too many bees in this 
hive anyhow,” said the old queen, 


angrily. “Who will follow me into 
exile to found a new colony?” 

That was sensible. It was the old 
queen’s duty to go when the hive 
became crowded, for a young, inex¬ 
perienced queen who could not even 
lay eggs, could not head a new set¬ 
tlement. Immediately a great num¬ 
ber decided to go with her, and be¬ 
gan to pack up. “Packing up” for 
bees is breaking into honey jars and 
gorging themselves. 

It was a warm, sunny day in 
June. Led by the old queen, thou¬ 
sands of bees boiled out of the hive 
and gathered on a low bush or 
branch—a regular congress of bees. 
Very likely they got together to talk 
things over. Suddenly a cloud of 
smoke stunned them, and they 
dropped into an empty hive held 
under them by the bee keeper. 

Such a roomy, brand new palace 
as they woke up in! They explored 
every corner of it. Some began to 
carry out dust, vigorously cleaning 
house. Others flew away and came 



395 





iiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiin^ 

Labor-Saving Machinery for the Bees 


“The other bees laid a foundation and began to build a comb. Little knots of bees worked all 
over the foundations at once, tumbling and crawling over each other. They were so crowded to¬ 
gether that you could not tell what they were doing. Perhaps some acted as hod-carriers and 
some as masons. Sketchy six-sided cells began to rise.” 

..Hill.Illlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.till.Hllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.. 


The big rolls of wax piled up at the right of the picture are run through the roller press ma¬ 
chine, which gives them the shape of honey-comb. The rolls are kept moist and soft in the tanks, 
as you see, and a series of rollers makes an indentation where each cell is to be. Then these honey¬ 
comb sheets are cut up into strips to fit the hive frames. The walls of these artificially made 
cells are about half as high as they are in the finished comb, so the bees have to add more wax to 
the cell walls. The artificially started combs are an immense saving of labor for the bee, and 
of money to the bee-keeper, because the bees can put in more time gathering honey than when they 
have to build the whole comb. 

At Work on the Honey Warehouse 


396 










IllllllllllilllllllHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^ 

Two Kinds of Nurseries 


At the left the bees are building comb in which the queen bee will lay drone eggs. See how 
much larger and thicker-walled the cells are than the ones in the comb on the right, which will be 
the early home of worker grubs. The bees are seen crossing from one comb to another, at work 
on both at the same time, yet never building drone cells and worker cells in the same comb. At 
the right the living festoon of bees is busy producing wax. 

.... <«««««««« . «« .. 


397 





.......... PICTURED KNOWLEDGE hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim 


How the Bee Carries Her Baggage 



The bee has a very convenient way of carrying her baggage. The bee at the right is carrying 
a big bundle of pollen on the thigh of her hind leg. In the picture on the left the pollen has been 
removed to show the “pocket” or hollow in which it rested. Notice the stiff hairs that grow all 
over the bee’s leg. These collect the pollen grains as the bee enters the flower, and the 
bee brushes them from her legs with her feet and rolls them into a ball which she presses into her 
“pollen pocket.” The pollen pocket is also supplied with stiff hairs all pointing inward. They 
hold the pollen in the hollow after the bee has once placed it there. 


back, so sticky with resin from pine 
cones and leaf buds, that they had to 
be scraped clean by friends. This 
resin was used to fill up cracks and 
holes and to varnish the insides of 
frames. Other bees went right up 
to the ceiling and hung in a cluster 
like bats, motionless for 
hours. Thin wax oozed 
in scales from the rings 
of their bodies. When they dropped 
at last, they pulled off these wax 
scales and chewed them. Each bee 
nibbled all around the edge of 
a wax scale, as you eat a cooky. 
They bit and chewed and mixed a 
frothy liquid with the hard wax 
and made a creamy, soft mass. 

With this other bees laid a foun¬ 
dation and began to build a comb. 
Little knots of bees worked all over 


the foundations at once, tumbling 
and crawling over each other. They 
were so crowded together that you 
could not tell what they were doing. 
Perhaps some acted as hod-carriers, 
and some as masons. Sketchy six- 
sided cells began to rise on each side 
of a partition that was started across 
the middle of a frame. 

Before the cells were finished, the 
queen began to lay eggs in them. In 
many small cells she put eggs that 
would hatch into worker bees. In a 

Laying few larger cells she put 

the Eggs drone eggs. A whole 

m tJte CeJJs frame was filled up with 
brood or nursery cells. Then another 
frame was filled with deep cells for 
storing honey and pollen. Those 
eggs would begin to hatch in three 
days, and baby grubs must be fed, 


Getting the 
New Place 
’Ready 


..... 


398 










I^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin THE BUSY HONEY BEE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

| How the Bee Drinks through a “Straw” 1 



The “tongue” with which the bee sips up honey from flowers is really not a tongue at all, but 
a lengthened-out lower lip. The picture shows you the tip of it. When the bee wants to take a 
big swallow, she brings all three points together to form a hollow tube. It’s like drinking lem¬ 
onade through a straw, isn’t it? When the last drop in a flower’s cup of sweetness is to be 
drained, the fine hairs on the tip of the middle prong mop up the liquid and it is sucked up by 
that part alone, which is also tubular in form. 

Each of the bee’s six legs has nine joints. In the illustration at the right you see the joint on 
one of the hind legs just above the pollen basket. It also shows you how well supplied with 
short, bristly hairs the legs are. 


| so a part of the hive 
| went out to forage 
| for supplies. 

Marketing of Bees 
and Their Baskets 


The bees gathered 
| honey and pollen 
| at the same time. 
| They poked their 
| long, licking lips 
| into flower cups and 
| swallowed the nec- 
1 ^ . tar down 

= Uatnerrng 

| the Food to the 
1 for the Hive £ j i* s t 

| stomach or crop. 
| Then they brushed 
| their hairy bodies 
| and legs across 
| blossoms. Some- 
| times they wal- 
| lowed in the pollen 
i or ran back and 


♦# 


The Bee’s Brush and Comb 



This is the arrangement on the bee’s 
forelegs by which her antennae or feelers 
are kept clean. The white projection on 
the upper part of the leg fits into a cavity 
in the part below the joint when the leg 
is bent, so that the whole forms a little 
ring lined with stiff hairs. The bee puts 
her antennae in the cavity, then bends her 
leg at that joint, pulling the antennae back 
and forth. The hairs brush the antennae 
clean of any dirt that may be sticking to 
them. 


299 


forth to cover j 
themselves. With | 
their hind feet they | 
scraped the pollen | 
off, gathered it up | 
i nto 1 ittl e pellets | 
and poked them | 
into the | 
pockets | 
or pol- | 
len baskets inside | 
their hind legs. 

They were in all | 
sorts of danger. | 
When standing on | 
their heads in flow- | 
er cups, wasps and | 
hornets stung some | 
of them; wood- | 
peckers and swal- | 
lows gobbled a few | 
up; field mice made | 
meals of them; and | 


A Life of 
Danger and 
Adventure 


%♦ 








^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!ii!ii!iiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii> | i ||||| i | ii ||||l *J 

| How the Bee Works Her Flying Machine | 


The bee has four wings on each side, but when they are raised for flight they automatically 
lock together, forming two large wings. The under wings have a row of hooks which catch hold 
of the flange or rim on the upper wings. The picture shows the left wings of a bee hooked in this 
way, as they look when the bee is flying. 


even hens snap¬ 
ped them in two. 

But beside the 
two, big com¬ 
pound eyes on 
the sides of 
their heads, the 
bees had three 
little eyes on 
the top, to see 
above them. 

Their anten- 
n a e too, are 
f i n g ers, ears, 
and noses al¬ 
ways in motion 
to get news of 
alarming sounds, odors, and prowl¬ 
ers; so Miss Honeybee was always on 
the alert and she had many hair¬ 
breadth escapes. 


A Queer Way 
to the 
Front Door 

W hen they 
had all they 
could carry, the 
bees c i rcled 
s t r a i ght up¬ 
ward and made 
a “beeline” for 
home, even if a 
mile away. 
How they did 
it is a mystery. 
They dropped 
to the hive, 
never missing 
the small opening below by an inch. 
Inside they emptied the leg baskets, 
and brought the honey up from their 
crops, much as a cow brings up her 


The Bee’s Sting 



With all man’s knowledge and experience in war¬ 
fare he has never made a weapon half so dangerous 

in comparison to its size as the bee’s sting. Here 

you see the little instrument magnified twelve times. 
There are three sharp little lances (only two of them 
show in the picture), edged with jagged barbs. Be¬ 
cause of these barbs the “stinger” works its way 
into the flesh, and cannot be drawn out again by the 

bee. The sac at the end of the stinger is the gland 

containing the poison that makes the bee’s sting 
deadly to other insects, and very painful to the bare 
feet of little boys, sometimes. 


t^lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllH 


400 








I 





. . . .... THE BUSY HONEY BEE mil ....... Him .iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii* 

The Baby Bees and Their Nurses 


■ 


Whatever mama and the nurses may think, you can’t say a baby bee is pretty, can you? I 
mean when he is still a grub, like that shown in the picture. Yet the most beautiful baby in the 
world was never tended more carefully, more lovingly, than these pudgy, white, legless grubs. 
They are so helpless that they would surely die if they were not cared for. They hatch three 
days after the eggs are laid and are fed on bee bread, a mixture of honey and pollen. The 
grubs grow so fast on this diet that in five days they are full grown, and fill their cells, which 
are then sealed up by the nurses. Then the grubs change to chrysalids, as the second one is 
doing. 

The queer-looking things in the right-hand picture are bumble bee chrysalids. In the first illus¬ 
tration, you are looking at the under side of the chrysalid. Notice how the legs, tongue, and an¬ 
tennae are folded. At the right is a back view of the same chrysalid. It shows you how the wings 
fold downward. Fourteen days are spent in this state before the full-grown bee crawls out. 

jd. When a little wax jar in a from a worker egg, only when one 
)mb was full of honey it was sealed was needed. 

ith wax, tobeopenedwhen The baby bees were pale in color 
eeded. and small. They did not know how 

to use their wings or even 
to feed themselves. Nurse 
bees licked them all over, 
as a cat does her kittens. 
They fed them from their 

TheSahy 0Wn mOUths 
iBees and and cleaned 
Their Nurses Qut t he ce ll S 

for new eggs. For a cou¬ 
ple of weeks the young 
bees staved in the hive, at 
cleaning and nursing 
duty. Perhaps they exer¬ 
cised their wings by fan¬ 
ning the air. Some bees 
seemed always to be at 
that ventilating work. The 
air inside a dark, close 
beehive is as sweet and 
fresh as the air outside, 
and rainy days, when all 
were at home, the hive 
hummed with this constant fanning. 
The bees were peaceful among 


Cradl 


Here is a queen cell 
alongside of some ordinary 
worker cells. You see it 
is much larger and differ¬ 
ently placed — with the 
mouth opening downward— 
and it is pear-shaped in¬ 
stead of six-sided. The wax 
composing it is also a lit¬ 
tle different; it is coarser 
than that used for the other 
cells. A queen cell takes 
one hundred times as much 
wax as a worker cell. 


401 









^mniwiimiiiiiiinmiiiiuiiiiiuiiiiiimnnimiunnimiiimiiuiiiiuiiu^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiii | iiiiii | i |||lllll| i |IIIIIIIIllIllllllllllllin ^ 

| Cousins of the Honey Bee 

/ ill 


Bumble bees do not build up comb like the honey bees, but store their honey in large open- 
mouthed cells called “honey pots.” See the higgledy-piggledy manner in which the cells and 
honey pots are grouped—quite different from the neat comb built by honey bees. The queen 
bumble bee is a more devoted mother than the honey bee queen, for she broods her children as a 
hen does her chicks. For this reason the brood cells are built in irregular groups around a central 
trough in which the queen lies. The warmth of her body helps to hatch the eggs. 




These are bumble bees, heavier-set and burlier than their relatives, the honey bee. On the left 
is a queen bumble bee, at the bottom is a drone, and on the right, a worker. The pictures show 
them one-third larger than they are in real life. 

Mother Bumble and “Her Chickens” 




$lllllllllllllllll!lllllllllll!llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllin 


402 













. . . . .. the busy honey bee ........nig 

Upholstering Bees 


flies back to the same rose bush again and cuts three or four smaller, semi-circular flits ot tear. 
These she rolls into tubes and fits inside the leaf-lined cavity. Her nest is then ready to be r stored 
with food; so she fills it almost full of honey and pollen. Last of all she lays an egg in the cell and 

closes the’ top with several more round leaf-cuttings. , , . ... „ 

In the lower picture a decayed log has been split to show several shafts which the leaf-cutting 
bee tunnelled out. Two of them are filled with layers of leaf-upholstered cells, one above the other. 


*,* 
♦ ♦ 


The Leaves of Your Rosebush and Where They Go 

These rose leaves look as though some one had been at work with, a fairy cookie-cutter, don’t 
they? See how neatly the little round pieces have been cut from them. The little fairy that did it 
was a bee. And what do you suppose she was making? A cradle! Here is a picture of it on the 
right. First she makes a long hollow cavity in some rather soft substance like decayed wood. 
Then she cuts a large oval piece of leaf to line it with. This is the outside of her cell. She 


403 






















Carpenter Bees 



A big bluish-black bee that sometimes frightens you with its loud buzzing is called the carpenter 
bee. Here is a picture of the violet carpenter, a species that is common in Europe. It burrows 
tunnels in wooden posts, and divides them into chambers. An egg and food for the grub when 
it is hatched are put in each chamber. The artist has drawn a cross-section of a post used for a 
home by some carpenter bees to show you how they live. In the upper right-hand cell a bee is 
at work storing food. Below it you can see the food and egg in the closed cell. The second 
chamber in the longer tunnel contains a grub feeding and below it are two cells holding chrys¬ 
alids. The upper one shows you the chrysalid from the back, the lower one from the front. 

Illlllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^ 


404 














I THE BUSY HONEY BEE 




*• 


themselves, even affectionate. In 
passing each other they touched their 
antennae. With these delicate feel¬ 
ers they caressed the queen and the 
baby bees. But if a stranger entered 
<B ut the hive—a hornet or 

Strangers Are wasp, or bee moth to lay 
Not Wanted Fs e ggs, or robber bees 

to steal their honey—the worker bees 
fought the intruder. A strange 

The “Death’s Head” 


around the caterpillar’s head in a 
collar, so all it has to do is to twist 
and eat all around itself. 

If no old queen is in the hive, the 
young queen is freed at once. How 
she is watched and fed and petted! 
In a couple of weeks she goes for an 
airing. She flutters about her home 
so she will know it when she returns, 
for she must take one journey She 

Burglar and the Bees 



Do you see how the Death’s Head moth got his name? He’s a burglar, too! If the bees aren’t 
on guard, he comes into the hives and feasts on the bees’ store of honey. You say, “Why doesn’t 
the bee use that terrible stinger on him?” That’s the strange part of it. The Death’s Head moth 
makes a squeaking noise like the bee queen and, while I suppose it puzzles the bees a good deal 
that a queen should look so much like a moth, they don’t attack him. But I’ll tell you what they 
do do. When they know there is one of these night prowling robbers in the neighborhood, they 
build walls of wax from the entrance into the hives so small that bees can come in and out, but 
the moth can’t. That fixes him! 


queen was killed by the queen of the 
hive, or a crowd of worker bees 
formed a ball around her and 
smothered her to death. 

The queen bee lives three, four, 
or five years. Sometimes when old 
she leaves the hive and wanders 
away to die. Then if a young queen 
c has not been provided, 

Sorrow f. 

When the bees are distracted. 

Queen 'Dtes For a day or two they go 

about frantically looking for their 
queen. At last they return, select a 
newly hatched worker grub, tear 
down partitions to make a larger 
cell for it, and then feed the grub on 
royal jelly* This food is not as 
sweet as ordinary bee-bread. It has 
acid in it, and it makes the grub 
grow fast and big. Food is put all 


goes straight up, out of sight. 

The worker bees wait for her anx¬ 
iously. She may be captured by a 
bird, lose her way, or make a mis¬ 
take and try to get into the wrong 
hive. When, at last, she drops, ex¬ 
hausted, she is hurried in, fed, 
waited on, caressed. In a few days 
she begins to lay eggs—hundreds of 
them, a thousand or two in a day in 
the honey season. The hive is a 
humming city of busy workers. 

What the Bees Do in Winter Time 

Late in summer, when the honey 
flowers are gone and bees are 
obliged to get what food they can 
from decaying fruits, the workers 
kill the drones. They kill all the 
drone grubs and eggs, so there will 


i*: 


405 







♦♦♦ 

♦♦ 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 




be no mouths of idlers to feed over 
winter. The queen stops laying 
eggs. The bees surround their queen 
A Living for warmth and hang in 
Blanket for a bunch from the ceil- 
the Queen j n g # On warm bright 

days they come down to gorge them¬ 
selves with honey. A few may crawl 
out to stretch their legs and wings. 
But they go back and go to sleep 
again. A good beekeeper who takes 
all the honey from a hive puts syrup 
and farina in for winter food. 

In the spring a bee colony is 


always small and feeble, but the 
queen begins to lay eggs again and 
every kind of work is taken up, so, in 
a month, the hive is swarming again. 
When the hive becomes overcrowded, 
a new queen is bred and the old one 
leads a swarm into exile. This may 
happen several times in a season. 
The workers do not seem to ask the 
queen’s permission or advice. It 
always surprises and angers her. 
when she hears the piping voice of 
her rival: 

“Please! I want to get out!” 


The Bumble-Bee and the Clover 

Came a roaring bumble-bee, 

Pockets full of money. 

“Ah, good morning, Clover sweet, 

What's the price of honey?” 

“Help yourself, sir,” Clover said, 

“Bumble, you’re too funny; 

Never Clover yet so poor 
She must sell her honey.” 

—Anonymous 






406 




. 



















This Butterfly Plays It’s An Owl! 


See those two big eyes? They are two spots in the wings of the huge Caligo butterfly of the 
tropics. When it stops to rest it turns with its head down, with those two eye spots turned up, 
and the humming birds that eat butierflys are atraid because they think the butterfly is an owl and 
will eat THEM! 









■atu- 


HAT is the difference 
* » between butterflies and 
moths? 

Many grown people as well as 
the children would like to know 
that. Some think that all the gay 
little creatures with four, painted 
wings, fluttering and flying and 
hovering over flowers, are butter¬ 
flies; and the dull-colored, dusty 
“millers,” moths. But there are 
many plain little butterflies and 
many big, gorgeous moths. 

But the two are so nearly relat¬ 
ed that it is hard to tell them 
apart. They belong to one family 
of just two members. It is as if 
there were only two varieties of 
birds—thrushes and owls. 

That’s it! Butterflies are the 
robins, blue-birds and brown 
thrashers of their family, sipping 
honey-dew and visiting each other 

HowtoTeV b y da y> and sleeping 
Moths From at night. Moths hide 
Butterflies j n s pady places with 

their big eyes shut, in the day¬ 
time, and prowl about in the dark. 
So it is true that most of those 
you see on the wing in the sun¬ 
shine are butterflies; but there are 


The Beautiful Life of a Day 




' ws 






■V: S : 


m 












also a few day-flying moths. 

To make sure “which is which” 
watch one when it settles. If it 
balances its lifted wings, or folds 
them together above its back, 
making a tiny sail, it is probably 
a butterfly. Moths droop their 
wings and then fold them close to 
the body. But look at the anten¬ 
nae, or “feelers.” A butterfly’s 
antennae are slender, and have a 
knob or club on the end. The an¬ 
tennae of the moths are taper¬ 
ing, spurred, hooked, hairy or 
beautifully feathered, but never 
knobbed. 

The butterfly’s body is short 
and slim, often like a polished, 
ornamental hinge for the wings 
to open and shut on. The hind 
wings extend beyond the body. 
The moth’s body is longer and 
heavier. It is often as fat, furry 
and as beautifully banded as the 
bumblebee’s. 


There is no other living thing 
with which nature takes more 
pains than these little winged 
idlers of sun and moonlight. 


407 


















































&iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiira PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinii ||||; ^ 

j A Butterfly Whose Beauty Gave | 

A Great Man the Headache 



This butterfly measures seven inches with wings outstretched; the male is velvety black with 
fiery orange markings. The female is lighter—brown with gray and dull yellow spots. It was dis¬ 
covered on Bachian Island, in the Dutch West Indies. 


You wonder why 
| she does it for 
| most of them are 
| meant to live for 
| only a few days. 
| They have no work 
| to do, as the bees 
| and ants have—no 
| nests to build and 
| babies to feed, or 
| food to store up. 
| They live just long 
| enough for a little 
| pleasure, a dainty 
| draining of flower 
| cups and the laying 
| of eggs. If you see 
| them all summer 
| long it is because 
| new ones are al- 
| ways coming out of 
| their pupa cases. 



Alfred Russel Wallace, the great English 
naturalist, was so excited when he discov¬ 
ered the gorgeous Croesus bird-wing in its 
native home, that he had a head ache the 
rest of the day. Great men in every line 
are like that—they are as enthusiastic as 
children about the things that interest 
them. 


As with flies there | 
are several genera- | 
tions in one season. | 
On any sunny | 
day, you can see | 
swarms of the big | 
brown, black-bor- | 
dered, cream-spot- | 
ted milkweed but- jg 
terflies. You can | 
see the delicate | 
angel wings, the | 
mottled tortoise | 
shells, the yellow | 
and white “sul- j 
phurs,” the nattily j 
cut swallow-tails, | 
and the lively | 
“skippers” that | 
jump about like | 
fleas. You can see | 
many “blues” and | 


a 


♦ ♦ 


408 





^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih THE BUTTERFLIES AND THE MOTHS iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

| That Silvery-Green, Moon-Spotted Ballroom Belle” 1 



This is one of the most beautiful of American moths. It flies at night and is called the luna 
(which means moon) moth. It lives in the woods on hickory, sassafras and sweet-gum trees. The 
long, slender, curved tails of the wings and the straight line at the front give the moth an un¬ 
usual and graceful shape, but its coloring is its greatest charm. Like a little girl’s party dress, it 
is tinted with the daintiest of shades. A background of pale green shades off to yellow on the 
edges except in front, where the wings are bordered with purple. Transparent circles, like lace 
medallions, are rimmed with yellow, pale blue and black. Add to this the delicately branched 
antennae, like slender, young fern fronds, and you have a creature as fair as Luna, the moon god¬ 
dess, for whom it is named. 


| “coppers” that 
1 glitter like metals. 
| You can catch 
| them only with a 
| butterfly net for, 
| like the spider and 
| the fly, they have 
| compound eyes, 
| and can see all 
| around them. 

Moths have 
| owl’s eyes, that 
| stand out from 
| the sides of the 
| head like j e 11 y 
| shoe buttons. No 
| doubt they can 

^;iiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 


Some Strange and Beautiful Wing 
Markings 



This is the “old lady moth.” When her 
wings are closed, as in the picture, she looks 
like a little old lady in an old-fashioned, 
fringed Paisley shawl in dull, quiet colors. 


see, in the dark, | 
the rose and gold | 
bandings, and | 
pretty crescent | 
and moon spots on | 
each other. There | 
are only a few | 
hundred varieties | 
of butterflies, but | 
several thousand | 
moths, so there | 
must be many | 
more moths | 
abroad at n i g h t | 
than there are | 
butterflies by day. | 
A great many are | 


409 



Face to Face with Mrs. Moth 



“The head is a flattened globe, broader than it is long. The bright, compound eyes are on the 
sides, and between them the feelers that are fingers, noses and maybe ears. The brain is mostly 
a pair of optic, or eye nerves. No wonder a butterfly is hard to catch!” 


410 

» 









♦v 


THE BUTTERFLIES 

attracted by bright light, and fly 
around street lamps. But the fine, 
large ones seldom come near houses. 
The big hawk moths visit the even¬ 
ing primrose for sips of nectar. You 
can coax moths out of trees and 
bushes by smearing tree trunks with 
molasses and alcohol. That will 
make them too stupid to move when 
you flash a dark lantern on them. 

1 hen you may see the polyphemus 
of the velvet brocade gown ; or that 
silvery green, moon-spotted ball 
room belle, the luna moth. 


AND THE MOTHS 

of leaves, and on the stems of any 
plant where many butterflies or 
moths are flying about, you can find 

Where to little chalky dots of eggs, 
Look for the often smaller than pin- 
Eggs heads. Some are alone, 

but others are laid in strings or 
clusters. Break off the branch on 
which they have been laid, for the 

At the “Homely Age” 


*V 


Raising Moths and Butterflies 

But these fluttering little creatures 
| won’t stand still long enough to be 

As Beautiful as Birds’ Eggs 


“Under a microscope you would find butterfly 
and moth eggs as prettily colored and marked 
as birds’ eggs, but of many odd shapes. Some 
are sharp cornered, ribbed and spiny. Each has 
a papery shell.” 

studied. Why not raise a few? In 
the story of Silk you can read about 
how Chinese and Japanese children 
watch the silk moth eggs hatch, feed 
the larvae on mulberry leaves, watch 
them spin their silk cocoons and, in 
a few days, crawl out as pretty white 
moths, to lay eggs again. 

On the tips, edges and undersides 


“Although a caterpillar is long and squirmy 
it is not a worm. It is a larva or imperfect 
insect. Its body is nearly always in thirteen 
ring sections. The head is largest. The next 
three sections have three pairs of feet. The 
last nine sections are all stomach. Under the 
rear end are supports, or false feet. _ Most 
caterpillars are smooth, with thin skin lying in 
wrinkled folds, but many have horns.” 

leaves will be the proper food for 
the caterpillar. Put the branch in a 
jar of water, through a hole in a 
paper cap, or the squirmy babies 
may be drowned. 

Under a microscope you would 
find butterfly and moth eggs as pret¬ 
tily colored and marked as bird’s 
eggs, but of many odd shapes. They 
are globes, cylinders, cheeses, bar¬ 
rels, turbans and pancakes ; and some 
are sharp cornered, ribbed and 
spiny. Each one has a papery shell, 
and is filled with a live speck float¬ 
ing in a bath of liquid food, as a 
chick floats in a hen’s egg. That 
speck grows and soaks up food and 
wiggles, and finally pushes, or cuts 
open, a thin door at one end, and 


*♦ 







PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 

Some Things the Microscope Tells 

Wireless Telegraph Stations with Wings 




*,♦ 


“The mouth is just two little sucking tubes. If 
you put a drop of syrup on a leaf you can see 
the little creature suck it up as a rubber syringe 
sucks up water. * * * Some of the butterflies 

and moths need no food and their sucking tubes 
are closed.” When not in use the tubes are 
rolled up, scroll-fashion, as in the picture. 

At the right is a moth’s leg under the micro¬ 
scope. The upper part is fringed with long, 
silky hairs, like a collie’s haunches, and the low¬ 
er, tapering part is covered with clumps of 
woolly scales. 


“A butterfly’s antennae are slender, and nave a knob or club on the end. The antennae of the 
moths are tapering, spurred, hooked, hairy or beautifully feathered, but never knobbed. These 
antennae are fingers, noses and maybe, ears.” Yes, and maybe they are part of a wireless tele¬ 
graph system; for so some scientists think. In the center is a beautiful example of a moth’s 
fringed antennae. On each side is a typical, club-shaped butterfly “feeler.” 


412 


IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIK 
















Here are tour stages in the life history ot tne butterfly called the two-tailed pasha. The cater¬ 
pillar in the upper lefthand picture is colored the same rich green as the arbutus leaves upon 
which it feeds. You can see how this protects it from its enemies. It rests all day on a leaf, as 
you see it here, and becomes active only at night. Next you see it hanging to a stem by its 
tail hooks with its head curved upward “like a fat letter J.” It is all ready to change to the = 

chrysalis shown at the left below. Finally, you see the full grown butterfly clinging to the 
chrysalis skin from which it has just come. 



413 




t:!iiiillllllllillllllll!lllllllllllllllliillllll!lllllllllllllllllll the BUTTERFLIES AND THE MOTHS .IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIW 


I crawls out. After that it does noth- 
| ing but eat and grow and burst out 
| of its skin several times. With 
| plenty of their favorite food to eat, 
| caterpillars will stay con- 

II tentedly in a glass box, 

| covered with netting, and 
| even spin their cocoons 
| there. 

Why Caterpillars Are 
Not Worms 

Although a caterpillar 
| is long and squirmy, it is 
| not a worm. It is a larva, 

| or imperfect insect. Its 
| body is nearly always in 

I Queer Things thirteen ring 

1 About the sections. The 

| Caterer h ead J s the 

| largest. It has a chew- 
| ing mouth on the under 
| side, with holes for silk- 
| spinning near it. There 
| are tiny knobs that look 
| like blind eyes, and some- 
| times “feelers.” The next 
| three sections have three 
j pairs of feet. The last 
| nine sections are all stom- 
| ach, with a blood vessel 

2 and holes for breathing. 

| Under this rear end are 
| supports, or false feet. 

Caterpillars are of all sizes, from 
| tiny black “army” and “measuring 
| worms” and fur moth creepers, to the 
I big green fellows that you see on 
| tobacco plants and grape vines. 
| Most of them are smooth, with thin 
| skin lying in wrinkled folds, but 
| many have horns, spines and tufts of 
| bristles, and some are so covered 
| with silky hairs that they look like 
| fairy muffs. They are usually gray, 
| brown or leaf green, or, if bright, 
| have the same colors as the plant on 
| which they feed. Most of them live 


alone. Some are hermits, sewing 
themselves up in leaves, or boring 
into fruits and pithy stems. The 
hidden ones are white. But others 


live in colonies, weaving web tents 
over big branches of trees. 

Sometimes you can tell whether a 
caterpillar will turn into a butterfly 

How to TeV or mot h by the way it 
Butterfly from makes its cocoon. If a 
Moth Cocoons butterfly, the caterpillar 

will go up a twig, or tree trunk, a 
wall or rough stone, spit out a but¬ 
ton of silk to suspend itself by, curl 
its tail over its stomach like a fat let¬ 
ter J, and then make itself a banded, 
horny case. Some butterflies fasten 
themselves by the tail end and also 
have a silk girdle strap from the 


This Butterfly Lives on Garden Flowers 



What do the long, slender antennae with knobbed ends tell 
you about whether this is a butterfly or moth? And the slender 
body, shorter than the wings? 

It is a beautiful brown and black butterfly that feeds on 
garden flowers. It likes the passion flower best of all. The 
caterpillar (b) is yellowish-red with zigzag brown and white 
lines. It has short, black spines all over its body and two 
very long ones in front. The pupa (c) is white with brown 
and black spots and golden, bud-like projections in rows on 
its back. The picture shows the three stages of the butterfly 
on some pansy leaves. 


&IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII1 


414 











THE BUTTERFLIES AND THE MOTHS 


The Pasha’s Wings 


shoulders. Many 
butterfly pupa 
cases have gold 
and silver spots, 
so they are call¬ 
ed chrysalides. 

Moths weave 
silk cocoons, or 
make plain black 
or brown oval 
pupa cases more 
like the beetles. 

To do this they 
often bore into 
the earth. So, if 
your caterpillars 
refuse to climb, 
give them a box 
of earth to bur¬ 
row into. No 
butterfly spins 
such a silken co¬ 
coon as does the 
larva of the silk 
moth, nor does it 
weave a nest for 
itself of wool or 
fur fibers, as do 
the larvae of the 
carpet and fur 
moths. 

You can find 
chrysalides, co¬ 
coons and horny 
pupa cases, 

wherever there are trees, shrubs, 
vines, weeds and old fences and 
house walls. Any school can make a 
fine collection in the spring. The 
last brood of insects of every year 
Under the sleep over winter like 
Bedclothes bears. The silk moth, 

S£11 Winter anc ] SO me others, live 

over in the unhatched egg, but most 
butterflies and moths live in their 
pupa state, sealed up in water-tight, 
horny shells or gummy silk cocoons. 

When in the pupa state a miracle 


m 


The upper picture shows the upper side of the 
pasha’s wings. They are brown, bordered with 
orange and spotted with orange and blue. Below 
is the under surface of the same wings—gray, 
maroon, brown, white, orange and black—in a 
complicated pattern of stripes and bands. The 
pasha really has four tails, two on each wing, you 
see, instead of the two which its name implies. It 
flies high and likes spoiled food best. 


takes place. The | 
great stomach | 
shrinks. The | 
biting mouth | 
changes to suck- | 
ing tubes. The | 
knobby legs | 
stretch and get | 
joints and claws. j 
Webby wings | 
sprout on the j 
sides. The eyes j 
are faceted like | 
diamonds. Put | 
your glass box of | 
chrysalides and j 
cocoons in the | 
sun. Some bright | 
morning you will j 
see one of those j 
prize packages | 
crack open and | 
an insect creep | 
out, feeble and | 
crumpled, the | 
wings moist and j 
baggy. You can | 
watch it unfold | 
and open like a j 
flower. | 

You c a n | 
p h otograph, | 
draw and color | 
the butterflies | 
and moths while j 
they are getting ready to fly, but do | 
not touch them, or you will rub j 
away the beautiful, dust-like scales | 
that cover the wings. If you find a | 
dead butterfly, sometime, you could | 
A x remove the scales and i 

Anatomy = 

of the study the w o n d e r t u l = 

Butterfly framework of the deli- | 

cate wings. Every little tube is | 
double. The inner tube is hollow, | 
and filled with air, like the bones g 
of a bird. Outside of this is an- | 
other tube filled with blood. A thin | 


415 










^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiM PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iinniiininiiiiiniiiimmiimniiininniiiiH^^ 


♦,* 


Moth and Butterfly Mimics 


These four members of the butterfly and moth family protect themselves from their enemies by 
looking almost exactly like their surroundings. In the left hand picture at the top are two orange- 
tip butterflies on some hemlock blossoms. The butterflies are yellowish-green and white, like the 
hemlock. But, you say, if they have orange-tipped wings they can easily be seen by enemies. 
But when the butterfly is at rest it folds its upper wings, those having the orange tips, down in¬ 
side the lower ones. The goat-moth on the tree 
trunk at the right gets its name from its odor 
which is like that of its namesake. The moth 
lives and feeds on tree trunks, so its mixed brown 
and gray coloring is the same as that of its home. 

Below, at the left, is the Apollo butterfly, a 
beautiful resident of the Swiss mountains. It is 
grayish white with black and red-rimmed circles. 
With the upper wings folded inside the lower 
ones as in the picture, you can hardly tell this 
butterfly from the flowers that it feeds upon. 

The South American leaf butterfly, shown at 
the right below, is tinted a dull brown, the color 
of dead leaves. Its wings are leaf-shaped, veined, 
and slightly curled at the edges, like a dry leaf. 
The gap in the front wing makes it look like a 
leaf with a piece bitten out. There is a little 
notch at the base of the wings so that the butter¬ 
fly can draw its head in, out of sight. 


416 












“Do not touch them (butterflies) or you will rub 
away the beautiful, dust-like scales that cover 
the wings.” Here you can see how the scales 
look under the microscope. Some are really col¬ 
ored, others are tiny prisms, breaking up and 
reflecting the light so that the butterfly’s wing 
seems to have all the beautiful rainbow hues. 


Notice this curious moth with glazed port¬ 
holes in her wings. The wing material is ab¬ 
solutely transparent in these places—you can 
read print through it. 


net is stretched over the frame, on 
both sides; and that is shingled with 
feathery scales that overlap like fish 
scales. These are colored, and ar¬ 
ranged in borders, spots, and various 
beautiful markings, as if painted, or 
enameled. 

The body of the butterfly, or moth, 
is in three parts, as your body is— 
the head, thorax or chest, and the 
abdomen. The head is a flattened 
globe, broader than it is long. The 
bright, compound eyes are on the 
sides, and between them the “feel- 
The ers” that are fingers, 

Butterfly s noses, and, maybe, eais. 
Pumf> Mouth J] ie mouth is just two 

little sucking tubes. If you put a 
drop of syrup on a leaf you can see 
the little creature suck it up, as a 
rubber bulb syringe sucks up water. 
Indeed it is just like that. The liq¬ 
uid food is pumped up into a hol¬ 
low place in the head. From there 
it is emptied back into the stomach. 


A species of South American butterflies 
has a plainly marked figure 80 on the under ^ 
side of each hind wing. This picture shows 
you one. || 

The brain is mostly a pair of optic, | 
or eye nerves. No wonder a butter- | 
fly is hard to catch! 

All six of the legs grow from the | 
three-ringed thorax, as they did in j 
the caterpillar, and the wings are | 
fastened to this small middle part, | 
too. The abdomen is the largest | 
part. It needs to be large, in the j 
female insect, to make room for | 

many eggs. | 

Watch the insect lift itself on its j 
jointed legs. It will cling to a twig | 


giiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin THE BUTTERFLIES AND THE MOTHS aiiiiuiimmiimniimimmiUHraniiiiniiiiuiiiuiiiig 

| The Beauties of a Butterfly’s Wings | 

s The Scales on the Wings Some Strange and Beautiful Wing 

Markings 1 

In tropical countries butterflies’ wings are § 

very frequently marked with conspicuous and = 

highly colored spots. There are two reasons ^ 

for this. One is that the bright spots draw || 

the attention of the butterfly’s enemies to its 
wings instead of to its head or abdomen. But- f§ 
terflies are sometimes found with wings punc¬ 
tured near these soots, which does not great- ff 
ly injure them. The gaudy markings on the f§ 

wings really protect the vital parts of the if 

butterfly’s body, you see. Another reason may ji 

be that the curious spots frighten away some l| 

of the more timid enemies of the butterfly. j§ 











PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


«♦> 


with its tiny, claw-like feet. You 
may think some of them have only 
four legs. Two are useless, and are 
folded on the breast out of the way. 
Under the back is a tube heart that 
pumps blood into the wings. Slow¬ 
ly the wings spread and stretch and 
stiffen to painted, silken sails. They 
will not need a fresh supply of blood 
for their few days in the sun. Some 
of the butterflies and moths need no 
food, and their sucking tubes are 
closed. 

In the winged form they all scat¬ 
ter the pollen of the flowers they 
visit, and do no harm at all. If you 
hatch out the little white butterflv 


that makes the cabbage '‘worm, or 
the little gray codling-moths that 
make the apple "worm,” or any 

Little Poets harmful kind, do not let 
of Color it go. But many of the 

Motion largest and most beauti¬ 

ful butterflies and moths live on 
weeds, so their greedy babies are 
welcome to their food. For that 
kind, open the window and let them 
fly—wild little voiceless poets, weav¬ 
ing their rhymes of color and mo¬ 
tion on the air. 



The Little 
White Butterfly 
that Has So 
Many Children 


If all the eggs of just one little common white butterflv hatched and 
grew to maturity, in three years we should have one billion butterflies 
flying over the land in its place. If these should visit New York, for 
instance, they would cloud the sky and make night out of day with their 
numbers. 


♦ ♦ 


418 


*♦ 






Clever People in Buried Cities 


T N THIS big 
world of 
ours there are 
strange cities 
that have thou¬ 
sands of inhab- 
itants. The 
grown people 
in them are as 
busy as can be. 

Some a r e al¬ 
ways building, 
repairing, and 
keeping the city 
clean. Some go 
outside to gath¬ 
er supplies, or 
act as soldiers 
to guard the 
city from ene¬ 
mies. Others 
take beautiful 
care of the chil- 
dren. They 
wash, dress and 
feed them, change them about to 
the warmest houses and take them 
out for airings in the sun. There 

Good Aunts are queen mothers in 
A mong the those cities, who are 
^ nts attended by maids of 

honor, but they do not give or¬ 
ders. Everyone understands his 
duty and does it without being 
told. It is thought that every cit¬ 
izen knows how to do all kinds of 
necessary work, and rests by 
changing work with others. Each 
one toils cheerfully, not for him¬ 
self alone, but for the common 


good. So, in 
those cities, 
everyone has 
what he needs, 
and no one is 
either rich or 
poor. Every- 
o n e is peace¬ 
able, and there 
is no quarreling 
or disorder. 

Now, if some 
traveler were to 
come home, 
from a far¬ 
away country 
that no one had 
ever visited be¬ 
fore, with such 
a tale as that to 
tell, wouldn’t 
you be interest¬ 
ed? You might 
even plan to go 
to see those cit¬ 
ies when you were grown up. You 
would think that a great deal 
could be learned from people so 
industrious, unselfish, wise and 
good-tempered. 

Did You Ever Visit an Ant City? 

But you won’t have to wait to 
grow up, nor take a long journey 
to visit one of these wonderful 
cities. You can find such a city 
on any grassy or sandy bank, 
around the roots of trees and 
stumps, and even above cracks 
between the bricks and stones of 


“Good Morning” 

Miss Ant is standing in the door of her 
apartment in the early morning sunshine, 
washing her face. She knows as well as you 
do that that is the proper way to begin every 
day, and what’s more, she never has to be told 
to do it! 




IN THE GREAT 
WORLD OF NATURE 






























































t^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw 


The Ant House in the Woods 


The wood ant builds a nest of twigs, pine needles and grass. These nests are sometimes two 
or three feet high and are connected by roads or tracks with other nests near by. The ants from 
all the connecting nests are on friendly terms with each other, but if a stranger ant comes in, he 
= is killed instantly. 


sidewalks. The cities are 

just ant hills, and they 
are the most interesting 
things in the world for big 
and little people to study. 

All you could see, at 
first, would be a little 
round mound of sand, 

This is loosely piled 

the 'Roof of and punctured 

the Town with many 

tiny holes. Through the 
holes, clean, wingless in¬ 
sects a quarter of an inch 
long, or less, hurry in and 
out. From the number of 
busy little bodies it is 
plain that the dome is only 
the roof of an unde r- 
ground town. 


The Honey-Maker 


Here is one of the 
honey ants that live un¬ 
derground and have a 
special class of workers, 
called “honey - bearers.” 
They are fed by the 
workers and produce 
honey in their enormous 
abdomens. The honey 
is eaten by the rest of 
the colony. 


If they were carpenter 
ants, that cut many stor¬ 
ied homes in decaying 
trees, stumps and logs; 
ag-ri-cul-tur-al ants that 
grow, harvest and store 
grass seed in underground 
gran-ar-ies; or honey ants, 

Isn't this that store up 

a Strange grape sugar 

Thing? * n tp e i r OWn 

bodies, I could tell you all 
about them. Or, I could 
tell you about the ants of 
the heart of Africa, for 
example, because wise and 
patient men have spent 
years i n studying them. 
But we know least of all 
about the common house 







A “Big Palaver” in Africa 



The ants of Gold Coast Colony, in western Africa, sometimes hold a general assembly in this fash¬ 
ion The negro natives call it a “big palaver.” The ants are symmetrically arranged in circles 
around the small open space in the center. They all face outward, nippers held up apparently 
guarding the central open space where a few larger and lighter-colored ants, evidently important 
members of the colony, are gathered. 





^iiiii!iiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiii[iiiii!!iiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii]iin PICTURED KNOWLEDGE [[iiiiii]iiiiiiii!iiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiii l i |||i|111111111111111111111111111111 ^ 

1 Inside the Ants’ Apartment 



Here is a cross-section of an ant-hill. At the bottom are the cavities or rooms where 
the tiny, legless white grubs are sheltered. At the left an ant is taking the “little 
white oblongs that look like grains of barley” up above ground. “Those are ant babies 
out for an airing. They are not perfect insects, but grubs, wrapped up in pretty silk 
cocoons, as pretty and soft as the silk moth’s cocoon, but, oh, so tiny!” 


and pavement ants of America. So 
here is a chance for some American 
boy or girl to win fame as a natural¬ 
ist. 

What Are the Ants Doing with Those 

Pellets? 

To begin with, so far as we can 
see, our pavement ants behave much 
as do other burrowing ants. So we 
can make a pretty good guess as to 
what is going on in the dark, under¬ 
ground home. If you will watch 

How to ants that are g° in £ int0 

Discover a nest, and you should 
Ant Secrets ] iave a good big mag¬ 
nifying, reading glass that you can 
move about, you will see that they 
are always carrying things. They 
carry bits of straw and bark and 
pellets of clay, no doubt for water¬ 
proofing their homes, and they carry 


all sorts of things home to eat. 

Bees eat only honey and pollen, 
but ants eat soft seeds, butterfly eggs, 
bits of fruit pulp and sugar, and 

The Ants’ crumbs left by people 
Bill of who have eaten picnic 

Fare lunches on the grass. 

Ants eat animal food, too. Some¬ 
times you can see them dragging 
dead flies or caterpillars several 
times as large as themselves. When 
one finds that it has a bigger load 
than it can manage, it lays it down, 
and hurries home. If it meets other 
How the ants coming from the 

Ant Calls nest, it stops and touches 
for Helf them with its feelers. 
Very likely it tells what the trouble 
is, for soon it comes back with help¬ 
ers. Several ants take hold and 
push and drag the trophy to the hill. 


^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim 


422 




♦> 

♦V 


WISDOM OF THE ANT 




There it is cut into bits that can be 
taken through the tiny tunnels into 
the nest. 

\ ou notice some ants coming out 
of the nest are not carrying any¬ 
thing. They hurry away on various 


to make rooms and galleries, and 
other waste. They are as clean lit¬ 
tle housekeepers as bees. Such 
things they take some distance from 
the nest and drop. But when they 
bring up little white oblongs that 


A1 . Three Guests in the Ant Household 

Although ants will often attack a strange ant coming among them, they are hospitable to other 
kinds of insects. They allow them to live in their nests and eat from the common supply of food. 
1 he insect shown on the left is the springtail, a guest in the ant household. In the middle is one 
ttie a P hl “ es — 3 whlte wood louse which supplies the ants with a syrupy liquid when “milked.” 
Ihe third picture shows a beetle which is often found in the ants’ home. Possibly the ants reason 
this way: 

“By welcoming the aphides, which are no kin to us, look what a fine lot of cows we got. Who 
knows what other strangers may bring us?” 

Who knows, indeed! Such wise little heads, these ant heads. No wonder the wisest of men 
learned wisdom from the ants. (See Proverbs 6:6.) 




errands, along certain paths, or main 
traveled roads. It is thought that 
they follow each other along these 
paths by the sense of smell. If you 
put an ant off one of these paths, 
some distance from home, it is puz- 
Wh y Ants zled an d runs around at 
= are random. If you even 

Like Dogs draw your finger across 

a path the ants seem to lose the scent, 
as hunting dogs do at running wa¬ 
ter. Ants have been seen to run up 
and down a finger mark, go around 
the end of it and pick up the scent 
on the other side. But if you put a 
pebble on the path they are apt to 
climb over it, instead of going 
around it. 

How Neat Our Little Ant Is! 

Some ants, in coming from a nest, 
bring up earth that has been dug out 

Kilinfiimi' 


look like grains of barley, they lay | 
their burdens carefully on the hill | 
top and stand guard over them. 

Those are ant babies out for an | 
airing. They are not perfect insects, | 

Barky Qraina’ but g™bs,, Wrapped Up | 
They're in pretty silk cocoons, as | 
Bahy Ants pretty and soft as the | 

silk moth’s cocoon, but, oh, so tiny! | 
The sun warms these babies, and | 
helps them get ready to break out | 
of their cradles. If a cloud appears, | 
chilling the air, the nurse ants hurry | 
the babies indoors. 

Then is the time that you would j 
like to lift the roof to see what is | 
going on. If the homes of our pave- | 
ment ants are like those | 
of other burrowing mem- | 
bers of the family, there | 
is a shaft or up and down tunnel, | 
several inches deep. At different [ 


“A House 
of Many 
Mansions” 


*,♦ 

*♦ 


423 





giiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiM PICTURED KNOWLEDGE (iiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii™^ 

The Weaver Ants of India 



In India there are ants 
that spin. Below are pic¬ 
tures of the worker and fe¬ 
male of this spinning ant 
family. The females are 
bright green and winged, 
but the workers are reddish- 
brown. The upper picture 
shows how these ants weave 
leaves together to make 
homes for themselves and 
cow-sheds for their cattle. 
The grown-up ants cannot 
spin, but in the grub stage 
they spin cocoons for them¬ 
selves. When the children 
have reached that stage in 
their growth, they are put 
to work by their industrious 
elders at weaving together 
the leaves of the tree which 
is their home. In the illus¬ 
tration you see the ants with 
grubs in their jaws, carry¬ 
ing them back and forth 
over two leaves which are held 

levels galleries 
run out, making 
a many storied 
house. Big and 
little rooms open 
from the galler¬ 
ies, the ceilings 
held up by earth 
pillars, exactly as 
in a mine. Con¬ 
necting doors are 


close together by other ants. 
The thread - like substance 
which the ants squeeze from 
the mouths of the grubs is 
woven into a fabric by car¬ 
rying them back and forth 
across the opening. The ma¬ 
terial formed in this way is 
strong enough to be written 
upon like paper. Some of 
the nests are a foot across. 
Others are tents or cattle 
sheds for the louse and cat¬ 
erpillar cows kept by the ant 
colony. At the bottom of 
the picture a number of ants 
are making a meal on a big 
beetle, though he is many 
times their size. On a leaf 
at the top you see a female 
caring for her first batch of 
grubs. She takes care of 
this brood all alone, but they 
grow up to help her before 
the second brood comes. 


just round or oval 
holes, and may be 
made anywhere, 
for ants can climb 
up or down, for¬ 
ward or backward 
or upside down. 

How the Ants Keep 
House 

There are three 
kinds of insects in 


v 

*♦ 




424 











Ants that Raise Their Own Crops 


wn 




'J* 


:mm - ^ 




PRM 






^ IS 


: 


* 




?^?J??£Sforests of South America you sometimes meet a procession of ants like this one. 

«> ' U h , ' d " 8r0 wh n "ch r0 « 0 h”ant f s eaf Thfsmirl’.r^o.S're'shows tb^feafSn^am and S™taUa«ir the 
mushrooms which the ants^, nVhthand corner of the picture, is a defenseless, plant-sucking 
membracid. Th.s ■»«■*“« ‘ he Vo U ca „ s e e how much he looks like the ant with the leaf on its 
bl'r r F^ a thrs reason 6 he "s misiaken for one of their own workers by the ants and so goes about 
among them unharmed. 


>1 


*.* 

*4 


425 











^lilllllllllllllllllllllllllHIIIIIIIIIlllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll PICTURED 

| an ant’s nest, as in a bee hive. There 
| are queens, workers, and sometimes 
| drones. The queens lay all the eggs, 
| as queen bees do, but they are not 
| jealous, and do not try to kill each 
| other. Several queens may live 

| So Careless peaceably together in 
| With one nest. They are fed 

| Her Eggs and p e tted by the work- 

| ers. And each ant queen has maids 
| of honor to follow her about, because 
| she is so careless about her eggs. 

A queen bee lays each egg by it- 
| self in a wax cell, but an ant queen 
| mis-lays her eggs. She strolls about 
| a good deal in the galleries, and 
| drops her eggs as she goes. Those 


KNOWLEDGE ♦v 

They pick them up, lick them all | 
over and carry them away to dry, | 
warm nurseries. 

Most of the work inside an ant | 
hill seems to be connected with J 
babies. A very simple burrow would | 
do very well for grown ants, but not | 
for the babies. There are certain | 
rooms where the eggs are heaped | 
up; it is thought this is to keep them | 
warm. The eggs are watched, car- | 
ried up to sun-warmed rooms in dry j 
weather, and down into waterproof | 
basement rooms when the weather is | 
cold or rainy. It takes the eggs two | 
weeks to hatch. For days and days | 
the legless grubs have to be fed | 


Mushroom Crops of the Sauba Ant 



Here is a section of the leaf-cutting ants’ garden, ready for the harvest. The fungus grows into I 

little knobs, you see. which would develop into big mushrooms if left alone. But they are bitten off I 
|§ and used for food by the colony. = 


eggs are so small that you could not 

Putting see them. But, in the 

the Eggs pitch black passage- 

to e< * ways underground, the 

queen’s attendants find every one. 


from the mouths of nurses, and kept | 
clean by licking and | 
scraping. Babies of dif- | 
ferent ages are kept in | 
rooms. When they have 1 

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiS 


Graded 
School in 
Antdom 

different 


♦V 


426 

















| spun their cocoons and gone to sleep, 
| “babies and cradles and all” are 
I taken out in the sun, every sunny 
| day for a month. 

Helping the Babies into the World 
The baby insects cannot get out of 
| the cocoons by themselves, but must 


WISDOM OF THE ANTS 

and drones that must leave the nest 
to start new colonies. They are 
hatched out in late summer. They 
boil out like bees and fly straight 
upward. The drones all die, and 
many of the queens. Those that 
come to earth again cannot go back 

How the Ants Take Their Cows to Pasture 


Many aphides live on roots underground. These “cows” are liked so well by the ants that they 
gather their eggs and guard them in the nest during the winter. Here you see the ants carrying 
some of the young aphides to the roots which are their food. The young aphides were hatched from 
eggs in the ants’ nests. Some aphides salute their ant hosts when they meet them with a lift or 
kick of their hind legs. A species of yellow ants lives altogether on sweet milk furnished by their 
aphid cows. 


| be helped out. The nurse ants open 
| the silk case, draw the infant out, 
| straighten its legs and stand it up, 
| feed it from their mouths, and, if it 
| has any, smooth its crumped wings. 
| Sometimes they help a baby out too 
| soon, and have to work over it for 
| an hour or more to save its life. 

You never saw a winged ant? 

| Ever See Some da 7 in tIie earl - V 

| a Winged fall you may see a 
| Ant? swarm of winged ants 

| leaving an ant hill, if you watch one. 
j The winged ones are young queens 


to their old nest. Some of them are 
captured by ants in need of another 
queen. If not they are obliged to 
start new colonies by themselves. 
How the Ant Queen Takes Off Her Wings 
The queen will never need her 
wings again, and, indeed, they seem 
to be very in-se-cure'-ly put on. Her 
captors pull them off, or she very 
sensibly rubs the useless things off 
against rough bark or stone. A 
queen starting a colony has a lone¬ 
some time for quite two months, and 
lonesomeness must be hard for a 




♦V 














The Caterpillars, the Cows and the Ants 



The green flies are aphides that live on rose bushes and other garden plants. They are kept for 
their honey by ants, but the big Chinese butterflies are near them in the picture for another reason. 
The butterflies lay their eggs among the green flies that swarm up the stem of a plant. The cater¬ 
pillars that hatch from these eggs live entirely on the green flies. The ants here are busy herding 
their aphid cattle, but they don’t seem to realize that the caterpillars are destroying them, for they 
make no effort to protect the aphides. 












:hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin^ WISDOM OF 

sociable ant to endure. She has to 
dig a nest, and bring up the first 
small brood herself. But after that 
the queen mother has a life of ease 

Ants Are and honor. She never 

Kinder leaves the nest again, 

Than Bees j •,— ^., 4 . 


needed at the time. They cannot 
make wax or honey. The honey 
ants have one kind of worker whose 
body is used as a bottle by the oth¬ 
ers to put grape sugar in. The 

Farming farmer ants store grass 

Among or grain seed, but 

the Ants neither puts in a winter’s 

supply. The many things that ants 
eat decay quickly, as a rule, and 
could not be stored. In the winter 
ants seem to sleep as bears do, and 
to be able to go a long time without 
eating. On very warm, sunny days 
in winter they often come out to 
stretch their legs, and to get a meal. 

Milking the Honey Cows 

There is one thing that nearly all 


But Ants Aren’t So Thrifty as Bees 

That is odd, for ants do not store 
food as bees do, for winter use. Most 
of them live from hand to mouth, 
gathering every day only what is 




429 











♦ # 


PICTURED 

ants do, if they have a chance. They 
milk cows for honey. You can find 
Can You their cows on the stems 
Find and leaves of rose bushes 

the Cow and other tender plants 

with sweet sap. They are little, 
soft, green bugs, called aphides, or 
plant lice. Mrs. Lady Bird is very 


KNOWLEDGE 

from two tubes above the tail end 
of the aphis. The ant licks these off 
Keeping greedily and then milks 




Cows In 
the House 


another aphis. There 
is a root-sucking aphis 
that certain ants keep in their nestsr 
and milk regularly. Indeed, there 
are all sorts of guests in an ant’s nest 


The Ant’s Ungrateful Guest 



The picture on the right shows an ant getting a sweet, syrupy meal from the two tiny openings on 
the back of a beetle. On the left the beetle is telling the ant that it is hungry by tapping the 
ant’s head with its feelers. The ant will give the beetle some food from its own crop. This par¬ 
ticular species of beetle is found in Europe and northern Asia. The beetle grubs are like those 
of the ant, but much greedier. The ants care for them along with their own offspring, but the 
ungrateful beetles devour great numbers of ant grubs. After the beetles have been in the nest 
for several years the number of worker ants is reduced to such an extent by this killing off of their 
grubs that the ants try to turn some of their female grubs into workers by feeding them on worker 
food. Ants can and do create females by feeding them special food, but having once started to 
make females, they cannot change them back to workers. They only succeed in producing ants 
which are neither true females nor perfect workers. At first the number of beetles is kept down 
because the ants unintentionally kill them. They carry about the beetle chrysalids as they do their 
own cocoons, which kills the sensitive young beetles within. But as more false females and fewer 
workers are produced by the ants, fewer beetle chrysalids are disturbed, and the ant colony is finally 
destroyed by the beetles. 


fond of them. Numbers of them 
sit still, sucking the juices, and 
turning them into honey in their 
bodies. If you watch a group of the 
aphides a little while you will be 
sure to see a business like ant trav¬ 
eling up the branch. 

Selecting a fat aphis the ant pats 
it gently with its “feelers” on 
either side, as much as to say: “So, 
bossy cow, so, so.” 

Two little beads of honey ooze 


—aphides, grasshoppers, beetles and 
slave ants, captured in war. The 
slave ants are always black, the cap- 
tors, red or brown. Soldiers, or 
workers with stingers and fighting 
jaws, attack another nest, kill the 
defenders and carry away the eggs 
and cocoons. These they care for, 
and, when hatched, make slaves. 
But the slaves seem contented, work 
as industriously as their masters and 
do not try to get away. 


j-:ii 


:: 


430 











Lives that Teach Great Lessons 


To the Readers of Pictured Knowledge: 

THE WORLD'S HELPERS. 

In the history of every nation there are a few great names 
that, "like peaks of sunken continents rise from oblivion's sea*" 
The thoughts and acts of these men and women determine the course 
of history. They give color to their nation's record. They are 
the builders of its reputation. It is these we have in mind when 
we consider a nation's virtues. When we think of the Greek as a 
lover of philosophy, harmony, and beauty, we do not mean that every 
Greek partook of the genius of Euripides or Phidias or Plato, but 
that there were such among the Greeks, fine strains of human hered¬ 
ity more precious than any other possession of the nation. The 
slaves, the foreigners, the men on the street were not touched 
with "the Glory that was Greece." Nor did this glory endure,when 
suicidal wars had put an end to the whole race of Hellenes that 
originally sprang from Mycenae. Similarly the Egyptians named 
the stars, built the pyramids and did many wonderful things. But 
this was the work of the chosen few. The average pariah of the 
Nile never named a star, nor accomplished any other feat termed 
Egyptian. The Romans wore the world's lav/-givers, but not many 
of them had any concern in Equity. And if freedom was born in 
England, there have been many thousands subservient.and complais¬ 
ant Englishmen for every Pym, Hampden, Cromwell, Cobden, Bright or 
.Bryce. 

These fine strains occur in every human stock. They give 
our races their character•• They give our institutions stability. 
They are the "men who command while the world obeys." They are 
the men and woman who can see what commands are possible and what 
are the needs of the world. He who strikes as the gods strike 
has the force of infinity in his blows. He who defies them wields 
a club of air. 

And this aristocracy of mind and morals are not the world's 
nominal rulers. To rule by force is the cheapest, crudest and 
most unworthy form of domination. The truly great of the earth 
are the World's "Helpers." It is the noblest attribute of democ¬ 
racy that it gives these their opportunity. Democracy asks, not 
for rulers but for helpers, and it asks of these no credentials of 
aristocratic birth or breeding, but only this, - Can they help? 


wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ .....mm.. 


43 1 







And a demonracy can find place for all the varied kinds of gen¬ 
ius/not alone for the soldier, the prophet and the priest* More 
and more the services of science are coming to the front in - human 
appreciation*. Science is human experience, tested and set in 
order, and the lessons of human experience can be applied at 
every turn to the betterment of human conduct* In every field 
of knowledge, of art and of ethics can be found World's Helpers 
and each one of these is entitled to the only reward they have 
asked, the grateful memory of those that follow them, and of 
those that they have tried to help* 




432 





SOP 


SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 


The Neighbor Lady of Hull House 




“Those who knew her best called her ‘Saint Jane.’ ” 


44 \I7HEN I grow up, I am go- 
* » ing to have a big house, 
not with green grass and trees 
about it, like ours, but right in 
among the horrid, crowded little 
homes of poor people, and be 
neighbors with them/' 

Father and Daughter 

This is what a seven-year-old 
child once said to her father. She 
was a pale, quiet little girl. Her 


back was crooked from curvature 
of the spine. She loved her tall, 
A Friend handsome father, who 
of Lincoln was so tender of his 

crippled daughter. She was proud 
because he had been a friend of 
Mr. Lincoln’s. He had letters 
from the great president begin¬ 
ning: “My dear, double D 

Addams.” 

Jane Addams never forgot 
about the “horrid little houses” 


433 




































































ttiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiiiii^^ PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiuiiimuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuuiiiiiiiniUBUiuiuiiiiiiiiiiiiuimiuiiimi^ 


that she saw in the poor quarters of 
the pretty city of Cedarville, Illinois, 
where she was born in i860. You 
see, she could not play like strong 
children, so she read and thought a 
great deal, and talked with her big- 
hearted father. One day she found 
him looking sorry over something 
in a newspaper. 

Her First Knowledge of a World Friend 

“Joseph Mazzini, the Italian 
patriot, is dead/’ he explained. 
Twelve-year-old Jane did not un¬ 
derstand. 

“Why should you feel bad? You 
didn’t know him.” 

“No. But all lovers of lib¬ 
erty mourn his death. He was a 
brother to all mankind, helping not 
Italians alone, but many peoples he 
Why tie had never seen, to win 
World freedom.” That was an- 

Moums Men 0 th er thing Jane never 

forgot. It helped her to think out 
how she could help the thousands of 
emigrants who come to make new 
homes with us, to be Americans. So 
poor, so puzzled, so friendless in a 
strange land, we let them come, but 
do nothing for them. They drop 
into the big “melting pot of the na¬ 
tions,” as our country has been 
called, and we expect them to be¬ 
come Americans without help. To 
get her big house among their “hor¬ 
rid little ones” and be neighbors, 
would be, she thought, a kind and 
useful thing to do. 

But first she had to go to college 
and travel abroad. She was twenty- 
nine, a strong woman with a nearly 
straight back, when she and her 
The Begin- school friend, Miss Ellen 

ning of Starr, went to live in 

Hun House Hull House, a fine old 

mansion in the most crowded foreign 
district of Chicago. She built a 


bright fire in the hall of her lovely 
American home, and invited her 
prosperous Irish and German neigh¬ 
bor women in for a cup of tea. She 
got them to help her give a party to 
the Italians. And when they saw 
what beautiful manners the Italians 
had, how they could sing and dance 
and talk of the art photographs on 
the walls, they stopped calling them 
“dagoes.” That was the beginning 
of neighborliness. The Greeks were 
invited, the Russian Jews, the Bohe¬ 
mians, and the other nineteen 
tongues of the Chicago’s nineteenth 
ward. 

Soon there was a reading room at 
Hull House and evening classes in 
English ; an art gallery and studio; 
men’s, boys’, girls’ and mothers’ 

What They clubs; a gymnasium and 
Do at shower bath ; a day nurs- 

Hull House er ^ kindergarten, and 

pure milk depot; a coffee room and 
restaurant; a dancing and lecture 
hall, and a stage for giving little 
plays. Other buildings were put up, 
among them a model tenement. Hull 
House sheltered a colony of earnest 
people, and the rich offered both 
money and services. 

First, Miss Addams fought loneli¬ 
ness—she made Hull House a center 
of social life. Then she fought dirt, 
ignorance, sickness, bad working 

Neighhorliness conditions, andbadhous- 
and Good ing. She got herself ap- 

Citizenshifi pointed garbage inspec¬ 
tor. At five o’clock in the morning 
she was up watching the wagons. 
There was a clean-up day, the chil¬ 
dren collecting paper and tin cans, 
the women sweeping alleys and 
streets and clearing the fire escapes. 
I hen she got a Juvenile court; and 
new child labor, factory, and tene¬ 
ment house laws. With forty peo¬ 
ple sometimes working and living 


&lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!llllllllll!lllllllllllllllll||||[||||||^ 


434 


8....... THE NEIGHBOR LADY OF HULL HOUSE 




with her, Miss Addams stood in the 
center of things. Such beautiful 
manners she had — always the 
same for the “Colonel’s lady and 
Judy O’Grady,” the poor scrub 
woman, the push cart man, or the 
troublesome child. In ten years 
she was called “the first citizen 
of Chicago.” She served on the 
school board, was elected president 


of the National Board of Char¬ 
ities, and was honored with degrees 
by several universities. Those who 
knew her best lovingly called her 
The Irish “Saint Jane.” An Irish 

Woman’s woman neighbor of hers 

TriluU has said: 

“If there be anny that will have 
respict in their bury ins it’s our 
Saint Jane. 3 




Who Is My Neighbor? 

Thy Neighbor? It is he whom thou 
Hast power to aid and bless; 

Whose aching heart or burning brow 
Thy soothing hand may press. 

Thy neighbor? ’Tis the fainting poor. 
Whose eye with want is dim, 

Whom hunger sends from door to door; 
Go thou and succor him. 

Thy neighbor? ’Tis that weary man. 

Whose years are at the brim, 

Bent low until sickness, care and pain; 
Go thou and comfort him. 

Thy neighbor? ’Tis the heart bereft 
Of every earthly gem, 

Widow and orphans helpless left; 

Go thou and shelter them. 

Where’er thou meet’st a human form 
Less favored than thine own, 
Remember, ’tis thy neighbor worm, 

Thy brother, or thy son. 

Oh! pass not, pass not heedless by; 

Perhaps thou canst redeem 
The breaking heart from misery — 

Go share thy lot with him. 

Anonymous 




♦# 


435 



tasam 



lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll|llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!lllllllllllllllll!IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII ,| l |l,| ll | ^ 

THE MAN WHO WON A GREAT VICTORY 








■/ 






This is the soldier—Col George Washington Goethals—who, 
in the building of the Panama Canal, achieved one of the great¬ 
est “military victories” and the greatest engineering triumph 
in history. 

“Broad shouldered and erect, as he had learned to carry him¬ 
self at West Point, everyone knew him. He was a Czar of 
Russia for power, a King Solomon for wisdom, an Edison for 
work.” 


436 













SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 


Col. George Washington Goethals 

“The Boss of the Job” 




to 


amutp^ u tj 
| - wiKs»i»Bpio» of I* 

PkujmO^m- y 


*3- iqiiL 


These little pictures show both sides of the medal given by the Geographic 
Society of Chicago to Col. Goethals at a banquet tendered to him on the date shown. 
The figure of the Phoenix rises from the flames, on her breast the motto, “I Will.” 
Her own history is a striking example of what can be accomplished by energy 
and determination, it is very fitting that she should recognize in this way the work 
of the great engineer who joined the oceans. On the obverse side of the medal 
(shown on the right) is the shield of the city, and on either side the land masses of 
the two hemispheres. The heads of wheat and the ears of corn stand for the products 
of the great Mississippi Valley, so greatly benefited by the new water route. On the 
other side are the laurels Col. Goethals has won. 


vieiv. 


HPHAT is the 
A chorus of a 
popular song 
sung in the Ca¬ 
nal Zone while 
the Big Ditch 
was being dug. 

To understand the fun and sober 
truth in that song you would have 
had to live under the strict but 
kindly rule of the Chief of the 
Panama Canal Commission. 

At first our Congress provided 
only for the work being done, but 
nothing much could be done un- 

The Little 111 ° r d e D safety, 
World at health and content- 

the Isthmus m ent of workers were 

provided for. There were thou¬ 
sands of men and their families 
of many grades and nationalities 
—American engineers, chemists, 
electricians, machinists, teachers, 
nurses; Spanish Americans and 
Indians; J-amaican negroes; East 



“See Colonel Goethals, tell Indian coolies. 

Colonel Goethals, Sailors of all 

It's the only right and proper nations, traders 

thing to do. and tourists were 

Just write a letter, or even better coming and go- 
Arrange a little Sunday inter- ing. There were 

two seaport ci¬ 
ties, many native villages, work 
camps, schools, hospitals, gov¬ 
ernment stores, a railroad and 
millions of dollars’ worth of ma¬ 
chinery and construction material. 
And there was no government, as 
we understood it, no citizens, no 
elections, no courts. A good 
“boss” was what was needed. It 
was President Roosevelt who de¬ 
cided to put the work into the 
hands of Army Officers. They 
were used to giving and obeying 
orders. A board of seven com¬ 
missioners was appointed with 
Colonel Goethals as commander in 
chief. This Canal Zone became a 
military camp. 



































































t^!llll!lllllll!llllll!!lll!ll!!!llllll!!llll!lllll!lllll!lllll!lllllllllll!lll!ll!ll!llllll PICTURED KNOWLEDGE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIH^ 


“Czar” Goethals and His Empire 

Colonel Goethals was a Czar of 
| Russia for power; a King Solomon 
| for wisdom; and an Edison for 

| Goodness! ";O rk - He W3S U P 3t S ‘ X 
| How that o’clock, and off for a 
| Man Worked four-hour tramp along 

| the line, watching everything. Broad 
| shouldered and erect, as he had 
| learned to carry himself at West 
| Point, everyone knew him. “His 
| alert face was that of a boy of 
| twenty; but his eyes were forty, and 
| his hair sixty.” In the afternoon 
| he was at his desk in the big, barn- 
| like administration building, above 


thinking. He never seemed to see j 
the dark blue velvet sky of the trop- j 
ics, with its sparkling stars and | 
golden moon. He did not see the j 
palms or flowers, or seem to hear | 
the music and laughter from gay | 
companies on the lawns. In fifteen | 
minutes he was sound asleep. 

But Sundays? He could rest | 
then, couldn’t he? | 

The Colonel and His “Trouble Court” § 

No. On Sundays he held court. | 
Everybody with a grievance wanted | 
to “tell the Colonel” as the song j 
says. He was the Judge of their | 




H ome of Colonel Goethals in Panama 



This is Colonel Goethals’ home in Panama. It is on a hill, overlooking the big Culebra Cut 
which caused Uncle Sam so much trouble. It is no bigger than many other houses at the “Big 
Ditch.” The screened-in porches running clear around both floors and the tropical palms in the 
yard tell you of the hot climate. It was on this porch that the Colonel held his “trouble court” 
every Sunday. 


the Culebra Cut. That office ran 
like a machine. Every map, plan, 
and record was properly filed. He 

He Showed had 3 courteous word 
Courtesy for every visitor. No one 
to Everyone realized that these many 
interruptions obliged the “boss” to 
work after nightfall. His light went 
out at ten, long after everyone was 
gone. He walked home, head down, 


court of justice, a sort of Haroun al | 
Raschid the Just, of the Arabian | 
Nights. | 

Such foolish complaints and | 
squabbles as he had to listen to— | 

There Were q uarrels between neigh- j 
Such Foolish bor women and laborers. | 
Complaints p e0 ple did not like the | 

houses they lived in; or the butter 1 
at the government store. A Jamaica | 


<* 


438 











COL. G. W. GOETHALS 

negro demanded the money his wife 
had earned over the wash tub. He 
was a British subject he said, and 
that was the Eng- 


«Lf 


lish law. 

‘‘You get Amer¬ 
ican law in the 
Zone. The money 
is hers/’ Colonel 
Goethals said. He 
ordered dam age 
claim papers made 

out for a man hurt 

* 

at his work. He 
refused to rein¬ 
state a gang boss 
who bullied his 
men. The man 
cried out angrily 
that he would ap¬ 
peal the case. 

“To who m!” 
said the Colonel, 
smiling. 

“But I’m an 
American citizen. 

I have rights/’ 

“The only right 
you have here is 
to go home, if 
you don’t like it. There’s a steamer 
three times a week.” 


Col. G. W. Goethals, D. S. 


Columbia University gave Colonel Goethals 
the honorary degree of Doctor of Science, in 
recognition of his great work in Panama. This 
is how he looked as he was being congratulated. 


Until noon he sat on his veranda, 
listening, deciding, sending most 
people away satisfied with having 

“told the Col¬ 
onel.” Week after 
week and year 
after year, he 
stayed “on the 
job.” He never 
had a vacation. 
He never talked 
about himself. 
Before a commit¬ 
tee of Congress 
lie summed up 
thirty years’ army 
service in one hun¬ 
dred sixty - seven 
words. Under his 
rule in Panama 
there was no dis¬ 
order, no waste, 
no stealing from 
Uncle Sam. H e 
was not popular in 
the same sense as 
was Colonel Gor- 
gas, the jolly 
health commis¬ 
sioner; but every¬ 
one trusted him, and admired him 
for his clean, honest, effective work. 


439 






The Man Who Conquered the Mosquito 


© Underwood & Underwood 


“He is a strongly built man, with a kindly smile and twinkling ey 
sweet and human he is.” 




440 





hop- 


SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 


Colonel Gorgas and the Little Terror 
of the Isthmus 


How Science and Diplomacy Defeated 
the Deadly Mosquito With Its Poison 


Bearing Darts 


This is a model of 
the malarial mosquito 
in the American Mu¬ 
seum of Natural His¬ 
tory, New York City. 
It shows the insect 
in the attitude it as¬ 
sumes when doing its 
deadly work. The 
mosquito is built in¬ 
ternally, as you see. 
something like a 
water tube boiler. 


66T T ELLO Central! Give me 
A A the Sanitary Commission. 
Hello! Is this the Health Of¬ 
fice? There’s a mean, blood¬ 
thirsty mosquito in my house. 
Send an officer, please.” 

Where Policemen Arrest Mosquitoes 

Such nonsense! Is it meant 
for a joke? No. It is an every¬ 
day happening, along the Pan¬ 
ama Canal, to call a health of¬ 
ficer to arrest a mosquito burglar. 
There are terrible beasts and 
snakes in the hot, green jungle, 
but no wild animal in tropical 


America is as dangerous as the 
mosquito. It may give malarial 
or yellow fever to anyone it bites, 

Mosquitoes and then, by biting the 
Worse Than sick, spread these dis- 
Jangle Beasts cases f- 0 wc ]{ people. 

After a full meal of blood the mos¬ 
quito hides, high on the wall, in a 
dark corner or closet or hanging 
garment, and goes to sleep. If one 
is in a house health officers find it. 

In the Pest Hole of the Americas 

In 1900 Panama was,-as it had 
always been, the worst pest hole 
of the Americas. For nine 


441 






























































♦♦ 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


*! 


months in 
every day. 


Fifty Styles 
of JVfosquito 
Bites 


the year it rains there 
Fifty varieties of mos¬ 
quitoes breed by billions 
in the swamps and slow, 
broad streams. Doctors 
learned that certain diseases are giv¬ 
en by these little nuisances. If 
white men were to live there and dig 
the canal, the mosquitoes had to go. 
So the government sent Colonel 
Gorgas, an army engineer and sur¬ 
geon, and made him family doctor 
of the Canal Zone. 

How They Got Rid of Mrs. Y. F. Mos¬ 
quito 

There are many kinds of people 
in Panama—Americans, Spanish- 
Americans, Negroes, Chinese coo¬ 
lies. Natives never have these fe¬ 
vers, and are ignorant about health 


rules. They could not understand 
why the “wiggletails” in open rain¬ 
water barrels and out-of-door 
closets did any harm. They could 
see no use in cleaning and fumigat- 
Just to Oblige ing their houses. But 
the Colonel Colonel Gorgas was so 
jolly and friendly, they did any¬ 
thing he asked, just to oblige him. 
They let him put in a water sys¬ 
tem and sewer and fill up the pools 
in the villages, although it no doubt 
seemed a queer thing to do. 

Then Came Mrs. Malaria Mosquito 

That settled Mrs. Yellow Fever 
Mosquito, but Mrs. Malaria Mos¬ 
quito laid her eggs everywhere. 
All along the Canal Zone, swamps 
had to be drained. Then, back in 


In the Panama Jungle 



There are terrible beasts and snakes in the hot, green jungle, but no wild animal in tropical 
America is as dangerous as the mosquito.” Here’s a bit of the jungle with a malaria-breeding 
puddle. _ And the natives in the picture, Negroes, are of the kind that ‘‘never have these fevers 
and are ignorant about health rules.” The big palm with the frayed leaves on the right is a banana 
tree. See how the girl is carrying one of the native ‘‘water buckets,” an earthen bowl, of which 
there are several more on the ground at the left. 






442 







a 


COLONEL 

| the hills, across every rivulet that 
| flowed to the villages, iron ash cans 
| were set on plank bridges. The 
| cans were filled with crude carbolic 
| acid, resin and caustic soda. This 

| 5 MiVion <Do1- oil y poison oozed, drop 
| Jar War on by drop, into all the 
| WiggJetails streams and spread over 
| the water. When the mosquito wig- 
| gletails came up to breathe they 
| were killed. Negro porters, carry - 
| ing tanks, sprayed the poison into 
| every pool. Doors and windows 
| were screened with copper wire. A 
1 person sick of fever was rushed to a 
| hospital. Health officers vaccinated 
| people. Others trapped, poisoned 
| and shot wharf rats at the seaports, 

| for rat fleas carry the black plague. 

| It has cost millions of dollars to 
| make this hot, damp country as 
| healthy as a northern city. It will 
| cost more millions, every year, to 
| keep it so healthy that ships will not 
| carry diseases elsewhere. 

1 The New “Bill of Health” for the Zone 

What do you think the health of- 
| fleers call themselves? “Ditch dig- 
| gers.” Colonel Gorgas says that, 

| by keeping the workman in good 

I Result of health, the Sanitary 
I the 'Doctor's Commission took half 
| Great Work ou {- Q f t} ie Cffie- 

| bra Cut. Through his good work 
| he keeps families together, mothers 
| and babies on the green, palm-shaded 
1 lawns, a swarm of rosy children 


GORGAS 

tumbling boisterously in and out of 
white school houses. He says he 
intends to make the Canal Zone so 
healthy, that a man will have to 
break a leg to get into a hospital. 

No other work done on the Canal 
has been more important or diffi- 

A Lesson cult; no other has af- 

for the fected so many far-away 

People lands and peoples. In 

countless places Colonel Gorgas’ 

methods of fighting germ diseases 
and insect carriers are being copied. 
And how sweet and human he is. 
Do you want a picture of him? 

A Pen Picture of the Soldier Doctor 

He is a strongly built man, with 
a kindly smile and twinkling eyes. 
He wears white duck, a soft shirt 
and Panama hat. In any native 
house he may be seen, with fat, 
brown children scrambling over 

But the Jolly He slaps the men 

Doctor and boys on the should- 

Means It! er To the lady he says : 

“Senora (Madam) you certainly do 
make the best lemonade on the Isth¬ 
mus. I just turned your rainwater 
barrel upside down.” Then to the 
husband: 

“Senor, if you don’t fill up that 
puddle in your back yard, I shall 
have to put a fine fellow in jail. 
How many toes has baby Rosalie 
got? Five! That’s just the right 
number to play a game I know: 
“This little pig goes to market” 


a 


♦V 


fS 

♦V 


443 




“Today, hundreds of honest and useful men bless the ‘kid’ Judge for giving 
them a new start, and saving them from the disgrace of havino- been in a re¬ 
formatory.” & 


w 1111111111111111111111111 "^ .....mm....... . 

444 


The Man Who Taught the World That 
“No Boy Can Be a Criminal” 













The “Kid” Judge 


T HAT doesn’t mean a child 
judge, but a judge of chil¬ 
dren. It is the slang nickname 
that the boys of Denver gave to 
Judge Lindsey. It is an affection¬ 
ate pet name, too, for they love 
him. He would not trade that 
name for the proudest title in the 
world. This is how he got it. 

An Appeal to a Boy’s Honor 

In 1900, when he was thirty- 
one years old,he was elected judge 
of the Probate Court in Den¬ 
ver. There was no Juvenile Court 

KoUery then - When a b °y 

of tie was arrested his case 

‘Pigeon Poost was tried by any one 

of several judges. One morning 
a “gang” of boys were brought 
before Judge Lindsey, charged 
with robbing a pigeon roost. That 
was stealing. The law called it a 
crime, no matter whether the 
guilty person was six years old or 
sixty. The boys hadn’t thought 
of it that way. In taking the 
pigeons they saw, they were just 
teasing an old man who was ill- 
tempered and mean to boys, 
fudge Lindsey explained the law. 
He must send them to the reform¬ 
atory at Golden. 

Then he remembered some¬ 
thing. With a crowd of boys he 

And then had once started to 
the Judge raid that same pigeon 
Pememhered roos t, to “get even” 

with the cross old farmer. The 
other boys did do it, but Benny 
Lindsey backed out because he 


was afraid. Those boys had all 
grown up into good and useful 
men who would.not think of steal¬ 
ing. What if they had been 
caught and punished as criminals! 

‘Would I be here now, to judge 
these boys! No. I would proba¬ 
bly have been discouraged and 
turned bad.” 

Then He Said This to the Boys: 

“Boys,” he said, “do you know 
what a parole is! Prisoners of war 
in camp, where they cannot be 
locked up, give their word of 
honor not to escape. I will parole 
you. You must report to me once 
a week. If you break your word 
and get into trouble again, I shall 
have to send you to the reforma¬ 
tory. I will be criticized for giv¬ 
ing you this chance to reform 
yourselves. If I trust you, and I 
believe in boys, why, you must 
stand by me.” 

He w r as a small, boyish-looking 
man, with a big head and frail 
body, and he talked to the boys as 

How the Boys though he were one of 
Stood Py them. So they called 
the Judge him the “kid” Judge, 

and stood by him, because he un- 
derstood “kids.” So successful 
was this new idea of getting boys 
to behave “on honor” that other 
judges sent all the children to 
judge Lindsey. 

A Live Boy vs. a Dead Man’s Millions 

One day he interrupted the 
hearing of a will case to attend to a 































































^iiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin PICTURED KNOWLEDGE nramrnimramiiiniiiiiimniinniiniifiiiinniminiinaniraiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

| The “Kid” Judge and One of the “Kids” | 


This is Judge Lindsey and his helpers hearing the story of one of the boy offenders. Notice the 
kindly, interested expression on Judge Lindsey’s face. 


newsboy, saying: “A live boy is 
worth more than a dead man’s 
millions.” 

Through the influence of Miss 
Jane Addams, Chicago had the first 
Juvenile Court in the world, but 
Denver soon followed, and Judge 
Lindsey became the best known 
preacher of the new gospel—that “no 
child can be a criminal.” 

The ‘‘How and Why” of Bad Boys 

What ails a boy, then, who fights 
and steals and destroys property and 
injures others? Judge Lindsey says 
he is probably neglected and un- 
Making taught. His father may 

The Toy be dead, his mother 

Over Agam obliged to leave him all 
day to work. He may be willful, or 
he may have gotten into bad com¬ 
pany. He may not have enough to 


eat, or clothes or books to go to 
school. He mav need some older, 
wiser person to help him get work, 
or innocent play, to love him and 
listen to his troubles. That is what 
the juvenile court judges and pro¬ 
bation officers do for child offenders 
everywhere, now. They find out 
why a boy is bad, and then help him 
to be good. 

A Brief Biography of the “Kid” Judge 

The “Kid” Judge was born in 
Tennessee, in 1869. His father, a 
wealthy planter, was made poor by 
the war. At eleven years of age he 
was a “newsie” and messenger boy 
in Denver. At seventeen, a delicate 
youth, he had to help his widowed 
mother care for three younger chil¬ 
dren. As office boy in a law office 
he read the big books. He went to 




446 









^iiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin BENJAMIN BARR LINDSAY iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiitj 


night school and worked his way 
through college. But he always had 
a home and a good mother. When 
he became a judge he saw many 
boys who had neither. 

Isn’t 95% Interest in Boys Pretty Good? 

Ninety-five out of every hundred 
children that he put on honor, never 
got into trouble again. Boys who 
just couldn't behave he persuaded to 
go to the reform school. He gave 
them money and tickets for the jour¬ 
ney and they went alone, without 
guards, asking to be locked up. 
Once a week there was a confes- 


made his own confession. No boy 
was ever asked to tell on another. 
You know how boys despise a 

B.ys Who “snitcher.” . The “kid” 
Liked to be judge despises one, too. 
Locked Up Boys who had not even 

been arrested came to Judge Lindsey 
and owned up to law breaking. 
Stolen things were restored to their 
owners, and destroyed property paid 
for through the juvenile court. 

Today, hundreds of honest and 
useful men bless the “kid” Judge 
for giving them a new start in life, 
and saving them from the disgrace 
of having been sent to a reforma- 


i sional in the court room. Each boy tory. 


The Barefoot Boy 


Blessings on thee, little man. 

Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan! 

With thy turned-up pantaloons, 

And thy merry whistled tunes; 

With thy red lip, redder still 
Kissed by strawberries on the hill; 
With the sunshine on thy face. 
Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace; 
From my heart I give thee joy ,— 

/ was once a barefoot boy! 

Prince thou art,—the grown-up man 
Only is republican. 

Let the million-dollared ride! 

Barefoot trudging at his side. 

Thou hast more than he can buy 
In the reach of ear and eye, 

Outward sunshine, inward joy; 
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy! 

Oh, for boyhood’s painless play. 

Sleep that ’wakes in laughing day, 
Health that mocks the doctor’s rules, 
Knowledge never learned of schools, 
Of the wild bee’s morning chase, 

Of the wild-flower’s time and place, 
Flight of ford and habitude 
Of the tenants of the wood; 

How the tortoise bears his shell. 

How the woodchuck digs his cell. 

And the ground-mole sinks his well; 
How the robin feeds her young; 

Hozv the oriole’s nest is hung. 

Oh for boyhood’s time of June, 
Crozvding years in one brief moon, 
When all things / heard or saw, 


Me, their master, waited for. j 

I was rich in flowers and trees, 1 

Humming-birds and honey-bees; | 

For my sport the squirrel played. 

Plied the snouted mole his spade; I 

For my taste the blackberry cone 
Purpled over hedge and stone; g 

Laughed the brook for my delight | 

Through the day and through the night, j§ 
Whispering at the garden wall, 

Talked with me from fall to fall; 

Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond, g 

Mine the walnut slopes beyond, g 

Mine, on bending orchard trees, 

Apples of Hesperides! g 

Still as my horizon grew, I 

Larger grew my riches, too; g 

All the world I saw or knew g 

Seemed a complex Chinese toy, fj| 

Fashioned for a barefoot boy! 

Oh for festal dainties spread, j 

Like my bowl of milk and bread; g 

Pewter spoon and bowl of wood, 

On the door-stone, gray and rude! 

O’er me, like a regal tent. 

Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent, 1 

Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, § 

Looped in many a wind-szmng fold; §§ 

While for music came the play 
Of the pied frogs’ orchestra; g 

And, to light the noisy choir, 

Lit the fly his lamp of fire. i 

I was monarch; pomp and joy 
Waited on the barefoot boy! 

John Greenleaf Whittier 1 


8 


♦♦ 


447 




How the Air Man Steers His Way Through the Clouds 


TOP PLANE 


kevoc 
; mu 


mmm 


faUfS 


Have you ever peeked over the shoulder of the man who was driving an automobile? Or per¬ 
haps you have taken the big wheel in your hands yourself and gone spinning over the open roads. 
Does this look like the front of an automobile? For one thing the wheel is smallef and in the mid¬ 
dle instead of at one side. The engine speed-indicator isn’t very different from some speedometers. 
Like the automobile the aeroplane has a clock and a switch and the footbars are something like the 
automobile’s clutch and brake. Many of the ideas in the flying machine have been borrowed from 
the automobile, you see. 


pgYNOl 

TANK 


PASSENGER 

WfARINO 

AVIATION 

HEADGEAR 


tOWER 
P'\. PLANE 


altitude gauge 


ELUOTT 
au. upren 
INDICATOR 


EIGHT OAT 
* CLOCK 


r MirtAt, 
SPEED 

IWOIOATOR 


448 













'A 


SOM EOF THE 
WORLD'S HELPERS 


The Wright Broth ers 

Conquerors of the Air 


Orville Wright, the 
younger of the two 
most famous Amer¬ 
ican aviators. 


There is a 
Wright sister, 
too. When you 
think of Wil¬ 
bur and Orville 
Wright, the 
American inven¬ 
tors of the “flying 
machine,” d o n t 
forget Katherine 
Wright, who gave 
her brothers the 
money she earned 
by teaching and 
nursing, to build 
their aeroplane. 

Now, when anyone does a very 
big, new thing, the world always 
wants to know how he came to 
do it, because that may help other 
people to do new things. An old 
man who knew the Wright broth¬ 
ers when they were little chaps 
has said: “I am not surprised. 


This $2,500 trophy was given by the 
Scientific American for long distance 
flights in heavier-than-air machines. 


Wilbur Wright who 
with his brother 
built the first true 
flying machine 


They were just 
the kind of boys 
to do it. Like 
Edison, they 
were busy ev- 
e r y m i n u t e— 
reading, thinking, 
learning some- 
thing even when 
they played, tink¬ 
ering at their 
sleds, kites, bicy¬ 
cles and a printing 
press. They were 
gentle mannered 
boys, honest, mod¬ 
est, truthful, hard working, with 
active bodies and minds crammed 
full of curiosity and determina¬ 
tion. When they began anything 
they finished it.” 

They were neither rich nor 
poor. Their father was a minis¬ 
ter with a large family. They 


449 





































































t^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiii!iiiii!ii!ii!iiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiii!ii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiW 


went through high school and then 
through his fine library of two thou¬ 
sand good books. The whole fam¬ 
ily seems to be in this 
Busy Boy- story. The father loved 

Two Brothers to Play and to study 
with his boys. When 
Wilbur was eleven and Orville 
seven years old, he brought home a 


tried coasting down a steep, snowy 
hillside on a box kite to see what 
would happen. Sure enough, it 
rose from the earth, sailed near the 
ground a little way and came down 
—hard. 

Putting a Heart in the Mechanical Bird 

‘Til tell you what, Buddy,” said 


The Two 


“Bird-Men” and Their Sister, Katherine 



Underwood, & Underwood , 


Together these three worked and planned and dreamed to conquer the air. The picture shows 
them on their return from Europe, where the brothers demonstrated the practicability of their 
machine. 


me-chan-i-cal toy. On being wound 
up it flew like a bat until it ran 
down. It was such fun to hunt 
through big, hard books to find out 
what made that toy fly. They read 
about the air-gliding machines of 
Mr. Otto Lilienthal. 

Just like other boys, the Wright 
brothers had coasted on sleds and 
bicycles, or earth gliders. They had 
rowed boats, or water gliders. They 
“A Family ” had sailed kites, or air 
That Worked gliders. Sometimes, 
Together when they had sent up 

a box kite on a strong wind, it had 
pulled them off their feet. They 


one of them, “if it had an engine 
in it, it would keep on going.” 

That wasn’t all it needed. In 
1896 Mr. Lilienthal was killed 
when his engine-driven air glider 

Learning of Came d ° WI1 SO hard that 

Bicycles, Kites it was wrecked. That 
and Boats made the Wright boys, 

grown men now, put on their 
thinking caps in earnest. The mo¬ 
torcycle, motorboat and automobile 
are all driven by engines, but if 
they could not be started, stopped 
and steered they would smash into 
everything, and be too dangerous. 


a .....mi.... 


450 






^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin 

The aero- 
| plane would 
| be useless 
| until it could 
| be controlled. 

| What Was Go- 
H ing On in the 
| Bicycle Shop 

For the 
| next eight 
I years the 
1 W r i g h t 
| brothers 
| spent all 
| their spare 
| time and 
| money work- 
I ing on this 
| problem i n 
| their little 
| bicycle shop 
| in Dayton, 

| Ohio. They 
| knew that 
| many other 
men, in our 
own country 
and in Eu¬ 
rope, were 
trying to get 

the answer to that problem, too. 
And, oh, they were so much more 
likely to succeed than the Wright 
brothers ! They had time, learning, 
delicate testing machines, money to 
build models, and powerful friends, 
and even governments to help them, 
and believe in them. The Wright 
brothers had only the time after 
work hours, no money, no laboratory 
and were not even well educated for 
their task. No one but sister Kath¬ 
erine and the rest of the family knew 
what they were trying to do, or be¬ 
lieved that they could do it. 

How Reading Pointed the Way 

One thing kept up their courage. 


By reading j 
of other | 
men’s exper- | 
iments they | 
came to the | 
con elusion | 
that every- | 
one else was | 
on the wrong | 
track. With | 
the rudest | 
tools they | 
made their | 
own tests of | 
air pressure, | 
weight of | 
materials, | 
necessary j 
spread of | 
“wings,” en- | 
gine power, | 
prop ellers | 
and steering | 
gears. They | 
knew their | 
aeroplane—- | 
which was a j 
double box- j 
kite motor- | 
air-boat— j 
would sail before they made it. But | 
if Katherine Wright hadn’t given her | 
brothers all her savings they could j 
not have built their aeroplane, and, j 
then, as many people who know, are | 
saying: “We would not be sailing | 
the air today.” 

It was in December, 1903, at Kitty | 
Hawk, a lonely life-saving station on | 
the coast of North Carolina, that the j 
aeroplane was launched, sailed and j 
brought to earth under perfect con- | 

A Surprise tro1 ; 0f COurse the J 
for the Wright brothers became | 

Neighbors rich an d f amous almost | 

at once. They had kept so quiet j 

about what they were doing that the | 

people of Dayton learned from the | 


THE WRIGHT BROTHERS 

Caught in a Storm 



Storms are fearful things for the aviator. This is a 
French air man tearing through the wind and rain at the 
furious rate of one hundred and thirty miles an hour. Can 
you tell from the picture what type of machine he is using? 


ttlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll^^ 


451 






1 



Ins*c! in fl«$b 
sAnth h«n <4 win 

b*l*nc*r* 5 H 

det not h»»f N 


BEETLE wil 
elytra lifted 
up during 


A *MAU 

a. rn*i&*-« w*iw 

rtVtMCHIH VtfhicH <l*rT« 
otut of tb* w at er 4»vfts» ^ 
in a r»«*rii»U« 


«>a "plane*; while H 
ml driving po w«« 


may act 
supply l 


Sechon of an 

Af RICAN 

FLY 1 NC SOUtRREL 
sh o w t n that The 

membrane consist© of shin only 


/ African 
revtiuo jA 


AN AFRICAN * 

FLVINC SOUtRRiU •■■% 

The shin-fold does fbOtf GXtmttm 
atonQ the tail. In appeam«e* : 

they rese(w»|» th* fro* t iyin^ | 
. Sc|iLtJ rr*ets ^ 




mmm 


pneumatic 

N utn e r c« s 

air cavtf 


Skeleton Wm$ 
of a Cannd - all the 

>©nes of wm^ are prt« 


5 I<«I * ton W«np T, % 

of Fufmae Petrel 
non* of fhe hones af the 
<are pneumatic 


RESTORATION 
of ARCHAEOPTERYX 

*no«»f anei«nl bird of whic 


Men, before they devised a successful flying machine, learned a great deal from the study of the! 
direct imitation of the live “flying machines” were failures. It was only when man worked o 

succeeded. 

That big word “patagial,” under the sectional picture of the African flying squirrel, is simply a sc t 
such animals as the flying squirrel and the flying lizard. 


452 
































a Water s, Fields, and Wood 


CHUT 1 NC 

««* (M J.WAlid) 

which earn mnke 

i(i exceptionally 1 

<*lf l«np$ 

S /emm 1*1 fj&f 



11, insects and other flying creatures. It must be remembered, however, that their attempts to fly by 
i from the standpoint of his own circumstances and the material he had to deal with that he 


leaning “winged membrane.” It is applied to the fold of skin connecting the fore and hind legs of 




453 







































iiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE ... 

How Men First Tried to Fly 


Men first tried to fly 
by making artificial 
wings which they operat¬ 
ed by waving their arms 
up and down. This man 
has two sail-like devices 
attached to his body like 
wings, a parachute, and 


ballast hung from his 
waist in a basket. It was 
only after an endless 
number of such experi¬ 
ments had been tried that 
they.found the right way 
to sail the air—by copy¬ 
ing the kite, not the bird. 


Aeroplane Built by 


the Wright Brothers 


The Wright Brothers 
built the first successful 
aeroplanes on this model, 
with two planes, one 
above and the other be¬ 
low the engine. Behind 
the planes is the propel- 
lor, a big, fan-like wheel, 
and the rudders, one hor¬ 
izontal, which controls 
the machine’s upward 
movement and the other 
perpendicular, for turn¬ 
ing it to the right or left. 
The rubber tired wheels 
at the bottom are used 


when the machine rises 
from the ground and 
when it lights. When 
you fly your kite you run 
very fast with it and if 
there is a good wind the 
kite begins to rise. The 
aeroplane rises in the 
same way—by running 
along the ground on its 
wheels with the horizon¬ 
tal rudder tilted upward. 
As it begins to go up, 
straightening this rudder 
then tilting it again helps 
it to climb. 






















iiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiniHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiitiinn 







7 - O = 

gether, under great difficulties and | 

An Aeroplane’s Home on a Boat 


THE WRIGHT BROTHERS 

newspapers that in their city lived time can match this story of two I 

inventors who ranked with Watt, brothers and a sister, working- to- I 
Fulton and Edison. 

Money and success did not 
spoil them. They went right 
on living in the old frame 
house with sister Katherine, 
and their factory is just a 
big carpenter shop. No one 
knows which brother de¬ 
serves the more credit. In 
speaking of their work they 
said “we” and “our.” Wil¬ 
bur died in 1912 without 
telling the secret, and Or¬ 
ville carried the work on 
alone. 

Y ou know how many 
“bird men” have met death 
in trying to break speed rec¬ 
ords, and in feats of skill and 
daring. The Wright bro¬ 
thers have tried to stop such 
foolish exhibits. All their 
efforts, since success, have 
been toward making the 
aeroplane safe and useful. 

No brighter, cleaner 
chapter has ever been written 
in the history of invention 
than this of the conquest of 

the air; and we have only a m 

few such stories of brotherly love for so long, for a great purpose, with | 
and loyalty. No other country or courage, patience and faith. 


Here is a monoplane coming back to the vessel from § 

which it started. The first airships made their starts and |j 

landings from the land or from the water itself; it was not = 

until later that they came and went in the air from boats. || 

Now they are sometimes carried by battleships to do scout- ^ 

ing. 


455 









The Doctor Knight of Labrador 



© Underwood & Underwood 


“He set broken legs, dressed gunshot wounds, cured fever. As a minister he buried the dead, 
and married the young. He started a traveling library. And he brought Christmas to the children.” 



456 























3 DP 


SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 


© Brown Brothers 

‘People felt better just to see the big, funny bear of a jolly doctor in his Eskimo clothes.” 


Y OU know what a knight is. 

In old tales of chivalry, the 
hero put on his armor and rode 
away to fight bad men and de¬ 
fend fair ladies. After a brave 
deed he was knighted. The King 
touched his shoulder with a 
sword, as he knelt, and said: 
‘‘Arise, Sir Knight.” His title 
was a sort of hero medal. 

Men do not have to fight in 
that way, today, but they battle 
against other kinds of evils. They 
spend their lives in loving service 
to the poor, the sick, the ignorant 

"Soldier, of and lonely. Painters, 
the Common sculptors, writers, ex- 
G° 0( L plorers, men of sci¬ 

ence, inventors, engineers, help to 
make the world a better and 
pleasanter place to live in. In 
countries where there are kings, 




men are still being knighted for 
useful, brave, and kind deeds. A 
few years ago a medical mission¬ 
ary of far away frozen Labra¬ 
dor knelt before King Edward 
of England. The King touched 
his shoulder with a sword and 
said : 

“Arise, Sir Wilfred Grenfell.” 

Then the ladies and gentlemen 
of the proudest court in the world 
crowded about a poor doctor of 
fisher folk, to ask about his dan¬ 
gerous and lonely work. They 

Winning g ave him money to 
Friends at the build tWO hospitals, to 
Kmg s Court p U y a Sw £ft steam 

yacht, and to get a herd of rein¬ 
deer from Lapland, the only 
milk-giving and big draught ani¬ 
mals that can live in Labrador. 
As an English knight he was able 


457 



















































































































^iiiiii!iiiiiiii[iiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiii!iiiii!iiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE iiiiiiiiiiraiiiiuiiiiiiraiiuiiiiiiiiiiiirainiiiiiBiniiiiiiiiiiiiiinimraniiiiig 


to make his mission better known, 
and to take greater comfort to the 
people of a desolate land. 

Gave Up London for Labrador 

Some of the people of Labrador 
are Eskimos. They can supply 
their few needs of food, fuel and 
shelter. But in the fishing villages 
along the coast there are English 
and French Canadians. For nine 
dark months in every year they are 
frozen in. The ships cannot come 
and there are no railroads. Doctors 
and ministers from Newfoundland 
were afraid to travel with dog 
sledges. In 1892, news too good to 
be true spread through the fishing 
fleets, along three thousand miles of 
coast, and back to the huts of fur 
trappers. Dr. Grenfell, a London 
surgeon, was coming to live and 
work in Labrador. 

In the summer he uses a little 
steamer, stopping in any harbor 
where a flag flies. Icebergs, floes, 
gales, fogs and jutting crags make 

Peril, of the evel T voyage perilous. 
Land of Winter journeys are still 
Eternal Snow more dangerous. At first 

he had only a spruce log sledge, 
with the jaw bones of a whale for 
runners, pulled by a string of 
Eskimo dogs. There were no 
roads. 

The Jolly Saint That Dressed Like a Bear 

But oh, what things he saw, what 
suffering he relieved in bare, dark, 
cold little huts! People felt better 
just to see the big, furry bear of a 

The First j°Uy doctor in his Es- 
Wooden Leg kimo c 1 o t h e s. He set 
m Labrador broken legs, dressed 

gunshot wounds, cured fevers. He 
got wheeled chairs for the para¬ 
lyzed; crutches for the crippled. 
The first wooden leg ever seen in 


Labrador made a useful man of a 
helpless boy. Crooked backs and 
lame hips were cured in the hospi¬ 
tals. Injured fishermen were mend¬ 
ed. Herds of reindeer gave milk to 
children, and made traveling easier. 

And He Played Santa Claus, Too! 

More than that, he brought joy to 
cheerless lives. As a minister, he 
buried the dead, and married the 
young. He started a traveling li¬ 
brary. And he brought Christmas 
to the children. Magazine and 
newspaper articles and letters he 
wrote brought boxes to him from 
many countries. Boxes of gifts were 
sent to the most distant cabins. In 
St. Anthony he dressed as Santa 
Claus, and drove up to the little vil¬ 
lage church with a team of reindeer. 

What a wonderful, fairy-tale time 
it was! There were little girls who 
had never seen a play baby or tea 
set; boys who had never owned a 
Santa in j a c k k n i f e or ball; old 

FemdeerLand people who had never 

eaten candy. No one at all of all 
those poor fisher folk had ever 
dreamed of such a glittering tree! 
Months afterwards he saw one of 
the Christmas dolls hanging on the 
wall of a bare hut. 

“Why don’t you play with your 
baby doll, dear?” the doctor asked 
the little mama. 

A Doll Too Sweet to Play With! 

“Oh, she’s too swe-e-et and be-au- 
ti-ful to hold. I must keep her for¬ 
ever to look at.” 

If you want to help this brave, 
true knight keep Christmas, send 

And You y° ur gift in the summer. 
Can Helf The tiniest thing would 

the Doctor make some child happy. 

Address it to Doctor, Sir Wilfred 
Grenfell, Battle Harbor, Labrador. 


......mi...... 


45S 



SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 



Burbank the Plant Wizard 


Photograph 
by Paul 
Thompson 



This is 

Luther 

Burbank 

himself 

seated 

beside 

a big 

spineless 

cactus 


O NCE there was a boy who 
loved plants. Do I mean ani¬ 
mals? You can understand any 
one being fond of animals, for 
they learn to love those who care 
for them. But any florist, gardener 
or farmer can tell you that plants 
repay wise and loving 
care, by giving their 
biggest, finest fruits 
and flowers. Not so 
very many years ago, people 
thought in farming and garden¬ 
ing all they could do was to plow 
land, put in seeds and keep the 
weeds down. The rest was just 
weather and luck. So some very 
useful and beautiful plants dwin- 


The Boy 
Who was 
Kind '' to 
Wants 


died and pined away, because no 
one knew what more to do for 
them. Farmers said the seed “ran 
out.” They did nothing about 
this until a bright boy waked 
them up. 

It w r as in Lancaster, Mass., 
where Luther Burbank was born 
in 1849. Most New England boys 
became sailors—“far countries for 
to see,” or they went 
to California to dig 
gold. At sixteen 
Luther was not strong 
enough to go to sea, or to “rough 
it” in a mining camp. He had to 
stay at home, and do the hum¬ 
drum tasks of a poor farm. There 


The 

Romance 
of Farm 
Life 



459 































































♦V 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


♦> 


is no romance in plowing a scanty 
corn field or digging a meager crop 
of potatoes—unless you have imagi¬ 
nation. 

Story of the First Roasting Ears 

Luther Burbank had. New Eng¬ 
land seasons are late. There were 
few green things in the 
gardens before July. In 
Fitchburg well - to - do 
would 


Two VC^eeks 
Ahead of 
“Luck” 


p e o p le 
pay good prices 
for early vege¬ 
tables. He sur¬ 
prised everyone 
by bringing in a 
wagon load of 
“roasting ears,” 
two weeks ahead 
of anyone else. 
The secret of it 
was that he se¬ 
lected large, 
plump seeds and 
sprouted them in 
manure and leaf 
mold before 
planting them. 
His corn was 
“up” the next 
morning. H e 
pulled the weak¬ 
er plants with 
the weeds, and 


winters of patient waiting. But the 
whole country was excited when the 
big Burbank potatoes were put on 
the market for seed. His crop was 
sold for enough money to take him 
to southern California, the plant 
paradise. There, while working as 
a farm hand, and growing strong in 
the sun, he studied plants. 

How the Wizard Works in 
His Nursery 


The Burbank 


then plowed and plowed. His corn 
grew fast and tall, with many ears 
to the stalk. 


How He “Invented” His Big Potato 

Next he turned his attention to 
potatoes. They had “run out” giv¬ 
ing only a few small ones in the hill. 

Encouraging P ° 0r ,ittle discouraged 
Discouraged tilings ! He WOllld do ll 1S 
Potatoes best j- 0 help them grow 

bigger and more plentifully. It took 
him four summers of back-breaking 
work, and four long New England 


He found that 
some plants were 
naturally better 
than others of 
the same kind, 
and wanted to be 
helped. Careful 
seed selection, 
rich soil, culti¬ 
vation, and not 
allowing bugs to 
bite them will 
improve plants 
wonderfully. But 
to grow new va¬ 
rieties this plant 
friend had to 
play honey bee. 
He lifted the 
pollen from the 
blossom of one 

kind, on a cam- 
White" Blackberry e ]’s hair brush, 

and carried it to the wet button of 
the seed tube of another. This is 
called “crossing.” By crossing a 
Playing common red poppy with 

the “Honey a red striped yellow one 
he grew the big, crim¬ 
son poppy. A way in which he 
helps fruit is by grafting twig buds 
of a fine variety that is scarce, onto 
a vigorous old tree. He has some¬ 
times grafted one thousand varieties 
of apples on one tree, by cutting out 
grafts that disappointed him. He 
works patiently for years, for a cer- 




V 


460 














The Big Stoneless Plum and the Two Kinds of Plums from Which It was Developed 

tain size, color, flavor or firmness of spineless cactus that cattle can e, 
fruit, or to reduce the seed. Mr. Burbank is not rich, but 

This “plant wizard” as he is has added millions of dollars a ye 
called, has no secrets. He tells other to the value of our field, orchat 
men just how he works to get his And You garden, forage and tii 

wonderful results. About forty of Can Find ber crG p S Q ne Q f t 

. . . . . . , ouch fortunes . . r 

his improved plants became known. in Your greatest helpers ot m 

But he had grown over twelve hun- Cornfield . that ever lived, the pat 

dred others that the world knew way to his door is worn smooth 
very little about. You see he had pilgrims who go to honor him ai 
no money to publish reports. As his learn of him. Don’t you wonder 
discoveries were too important to be any Lancaster boy who ever we 
lost, the Carnegie Institute set aside to sea or dug for gold, found great 
one hundred thousand dollars to good fortune, or a happier, me 
help carry on his experiments. Con- useful life than Luther Burba 
gress gave him the use of govern- found in his corn fields and his hi 
ment land on which to grow the of “run out” potatoes'? 


».* 

♦♦ 


BURBANK, THE PLANT WIZARD 


A 


Burbank’s Ever Bearing Rhubarb 




tt 




1 Mr. Hill and How He Wrote His Name j 



© Koch Bros. 









SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 



James J. Hill, the Colossus of Roads 


Here is Mr. Hill standing in the doorway of the cab of one of his own big 
locomotives. 


TN the story of the “Seven Won- 

-■* ders of the World/’ you can 

read about the giant figure 

of a man that was called the 

Colossus of Rhodes. When Mr. 

James J. Hill finished the Great 

Northern Railroad, some witty 

person changed the spelling to 

“roads,” to make the name fit our 

greatest railroad builder. 

Little Jim Hill’s Fondness for Good 
Books 

Little “Jim” Hill never 
dreamed of winning such a nick¬ 
name, when he was a boy on a 
farm in Ontario, Canada. He 


had a Scotch mother who wanted 
her dear, book-loving laddie to 
be a doctor. When he grew up, 
and was living in St. Paul, Min¬ 
nesota, he offered himself as a 
soldier, to fight in our Civil War, 
but Uncle Sam could not accept 
him. Two sad misfortunes, in 

“TheStudious childhood, spoiled 
Hard-Work- both plans. First a 
mg Scotch Boy pl a y ma t e struck him 

with an arrow, making him blind 
in one eye, when he was nine 
years old, so he could not be a 
soldier. When he was fifteen his 
father died, and he had to leave 


463 





























































^iiii!iii!iiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiii!iiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE imnmnraiiuiiiinmiiiiiiufflraiiiiiiiiiiiiiraiiiiiiiiiiiimraimiiiiiiiiiii^ 


school. In 1856, at the age of eight¬ 
een, he came to St. Paul to clerk in 
a Mississippi River steamboat office. 
It is a big city today, with a thickly 
peopled country behind it, but then 
it was only a 
struggling pio¬ 
neer village “at 
the far end of 
nowhere. ,, The 
Scotch Canad¬ 
ian youth 
worked hard all 
day, and stud- 
ie*d half the 
night. He 
learned such a 
variety of 
things, and 
knew them so 
well, that he 
could write an 
encyclopedia. 

In his railroad 
building he 
found use for 
everything he 
knew. 

They Laughed at 
First, of Course! 

Firewood 
was cheap in 
Minnesota, and 
everybody laughed when “Jim’’ Hill 
brought a boat-load of coal from 
Illinois. But he sent that coal in 
wagons to the Red River and sold 
it in the Canadian town of Winni¬ 
peg. People laughed again when 
he bought an unfinished, bankrupt 
railroad, that had “crawled four 
hundred miles out on the prairie to 
die.” But in six years, and that was 
in 1885, h e was president of a good 
road that was making money. 

Then Capitalists Began to Believe in Him 


lumber came from the Northwest 
had to go across Canada, by the 
Canadian Pacific, or down to Chi¬ 
cago by the Northern Pacific. Mr. 
Hill saw how a thousand miles of 

rail f r e i gh t 
could be saved, 
if a road were 
run between 
these, and Pu- 
get Sound 
connected with 
Lake Superior. 
That would 
save money on 
the long haul to 
Buffalo, for 
water travel is 
cheaper than 
land. He made 
men with mon¬ 
ey believe in 
his plan, al¬ 
though neither 
of the other 
roads were 
making profits. 
Look where the 
“Great North¬ 
ern” runs, from 
Duluth to Seat¬ 
tle, with the 
cities and towns 
strung along it. That road was 
pushed through the wilderness— 
through “the land of sky blue wa¬ 
ter” of Minnesota, the prairies of 
Dakota, along the big muddy Mis¬ 
souri, over wild mountains and deep 
canyons. 

A Line that Reached Half Way ’Round 
the World 

When it was finished in 1893, 
people poured in, and wheat poured 
out. Lumber camps and mines 
were opened. Grain elevators rose 
like lighthouses, above the sea of 
grain; cattle and sheep ranged a 


In that day, what wheat and 


*.♦ 

»♦ 


** 


Speaking to a Gathering of Farmers 



This picture shows Mr. Hill delivering a speech 
to the farmers along his lines, in which he is 
emphasizing the need of better farming methods. 


464 





thousand hills 
and orchards 
bloomed in ev¬ 
ery valley. A 
fleet of ships 
had to be built 
on Lake Su¬ 
perior to carry 
half a 1 mil¬ 
lion bushels of 
wheat to Buf¬ 
falo every year; 
and a branch 
line pushed far 
up into Can¬ 
ada. There was 
a fleet on the 
Pacific to carry 
flour and cot¬ 
ton to China 
and Japan, 
and steamers 
running to 
Alaska. 


And This Scotch 
Canadian Boy Did 
It All 

Mr. Hill did it all. He planned 
the road, got the money, he built 
the line and he managed it. He 
put new ideas into railroad and 
freight vessel building. Low grades, 
big engines, big cars, big boats, full 
loads both wavs, were ideas that 
changed losses into profits. He got 

Putting His people to come into his 
Geography country, and made trade 
to Work where there was none. 

He knew every inch of his road— 
the climate, soil, plants, animals, 
water, crops and people. He knew 
every spike and tie, bridge and tun¬ 
nel and grade. He knew every man 


JAMES J. HILL 

James J. Hill, Scholar and Empire Builder 


Above you see Mr. Hill as he looked shortly before 
receiving an honorary degree from Yale University. 


lie employed. 
He laid out the 
town sites. On 
a model farm 
he showed oth- 
e rs how to 
grow wheat. 
He bought 
blooded ani¬ 
mals and im¬ 
proved the live 
stock. He told 
people how to 
market their 
crops and in¬ 
vest their sav¬ 
ings. He kept 
freight rates as 
low as possible. 
In St. Paul he 
trained young 
men in his ideas 
of railroading. 
He trained his 
own sons to 
carrv on his 

J 

work. 

Mr. Hill became one of our rich¬ 
est men, but he made new homes 
and good livings for 
millions of people. He 
added untold wealth to 
country, and gave the world 
more bread to eat. Onlv a Caesar 

j 

or Napoleon could show as great a 
record as he. But military con¬ 
querors always destroyed things and 
then built on the ruins. Mr. Hill 
tore down nothing. It was a wild¬ 
erness, a waste empire, that he con¬ 
quered and built up. Don’t you 
think he deserved his nickname “Co¬ 
lossus of Roads?” 


‘‘James J” 

Empire 

Builder 


our 



465 






QDC? 


SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 




Strathcona, Canada’s “Grand Old Man" { 


^X^OU’LL all be proud of my 
X Donald yet.” 

It’s mothers that say such things 
as that. A certain Mrs. Smith 
said it at a time when everyone 
else thought her son was doing 
something foolish. She was the 
mother of the little boy who af¬ 
terward became the great “Lord 
Strathcona.” They lived in a vil¬ 


lage in the north of Scotland, 
away back in 1838. Her son 
wasn’t “Lord” anybody then. He 

Young was j ust an eighteen- 

'Donald and year old boy named 
the Bools -Donald Alexander 

Smith.” His parents were poor, 
but Scotch people will educate 
their children if they have to live 
on oatmeal and turnips. Donald 


466 




































































giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiifliiiM LORD ST RAT H C O N A niuimiiimmiiiniiimiimiiiiuiiininmiiiniiiiiiiiummimiuiiuuiiniiiuiiiHts 


was studying law. Then his uncle 
John Stewart came home from Can¬ 
ada on a visit, and Donald’s whole 
life was changed. 

The Wild Country Back of the Great 

River 

Canada was just as big a place on 
the map then as it is today, but it 
wasn’t a country under one govern¬ 
ment. It had cities, towns and 


Company to buy furs. These trad¬ 
ing forts were hundreds of miles 
apart. To reach them men had to 
travel by canoe and dog team. 

Donald’s uncle was a fur trader. 
What stories he told of bitter cold 
and wild flood, of fights with fierce 
animals, of hunts and camping with 
the Indians! It was a life of hard¬ 
ship and danger and loneliness, 
where no man got rich or was ever 



It was fitting that Donald Smith, later to be Lord Strathcona, should drive the last spike in the 
rails of the Canadian Pacific Railroad he had worked so hard to build. By connecting the St. Law¬ 
rence cities with the Pacific, this railroad has done much for the development of Canada. 


farms only along the St. Lawrence 
River. The rest of it was wilder¬ 
ness. Tribes of Indians and wild 
animals roamed through the great 
forests and over the mountains and 
western plains. White traders lived 
in the log posts of the Hudson Bay 


heard of outside. But Donald 
wanted to go. 

When Donald Went Away 

His mother was sick and sad at 
heart. Perhaps she thought him 
foolish, too, but she said: “My son 


5iiiii)iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^^ .. 


467 









PICTURED KNOWLEDGE jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiih^ 


is good, and he has an old head. He 
will work hard and be honest, faith¬ 
ful and brave. You’ll all be proud 
of my Donald yet.” 

He became a clerk for the fur 
trading company and was sent to 
Labrador. That part of Canada is 

A Neighbor sti11 called “ the back 
of the door to the North Pole.” 

Polar Bear When Donald went 

there many Eskimos and polar 
bears lived along its pitiless shores. 
He was paid only $100 for the first 
year’s work. He had a log cabin, 
goods to trade with the Indians, and 
for food, flour, pork and beans. 
Only twice a year could he get letters. 
He had to teach the stupid Indians 
how to hunt. He brought'comfort 
and hope to them and made trade 
where there had been none. No day 
was too bitter, no journey or winter 
too long, no task too hard for Don¬ 
ald Smith. The Indians called him 
“Spirit-of-Iron.” 

In the thirteen years that he stayed 
in Labrador and in posts around 
Hudson Bay, he had time to read 
and write and think and hold his 
A Wan tongue, to face dangers 
Who Stuck to unafraid and to hold to 
His Purpose yq s p ur p 0S e. In his old 

age he was strong and tireless, fear¬ 
less and silent, and he finished every 
task he undertook. For thirty years 
altogether, he was a fur trader in 
the wilderness, but he climbed. 
Wherever he went he ruled his lit¬ 
tle or big post wisely, increased 
trade and dealt justly with the poor 
Indians and white trappers. At 
forty-eight he was chief officer of 
the Hudson Bay Company, com¬ 
manding an army of traders in dis¬ 
tant posts, from Montreal. 

In 1867 “The Dominion of Can¬ 
ada” was formed out of the prov¬ 
inces along the St. Lawrence. The 


new government then bought large 
territories in the Northwest from the 

Donald Hudson Bay Company. 

Made a The fur traders on the 

Prisoner Red Ri ver> nG w Mani¬ 

toba, did not like this and some of 
them rebelled. Donald Smith went 
among them. He was made a pris¬ 
oner, but he got them to give up 
without fighting. He knew that the 
fur company must move to wilder 
lands and give up all the country 
that could be used for farms and 
cities. But settlers would not come 
without railroads. So he joined Mr. 
J. J. Hill of St. Paul, Minnesota, in 
pushing a railroad up to Winnipeg. 

He saw, too, that if Canada was 
ever to be a big nation, with many 
people in it, and all its parts bound 
together, it must have a railway 
from Montreal to the Pacific Coast. 
So he set himself the task of build¬ 
ing the Canadian Pacific Railroad. 
He did for Canada what Mr. Hill 
did for the United States in building 
Then They the Great Northern Rail- 
SvLade Him road. It was his pluck, 
a Knight tireless work, his 

honesty', his patriotism, his “spirit of 
iron” that did it. The task was fif¬ 
teen years long. When it was done 
he was called to London to be made 
Governor of the Hudson Bay Com¬ 
pany, and to be knighted by the 
Queen. He was also Lord High 
Commissioner for Canada—a sort of 
ambassador. His railroad made him 
rich. In 1897, he was made Baron 
Strathcona and Mount Royal of 
Scotland and Canada. 

His mother knew him. The whole 
British Empire became proud of her 
Donald. Indians and fur traders, 
his company, his friends, his adopt¬ 
ed country found him equal to every 
task. Faithful in little things he 
was able to do all the big ones. 


... 


468 



SDI 7 


SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 


John Burroughs, Prophet of Nature 


“Come forth into the light of things, 

Let Nature be your teacher.” 

Wordsworth 


T HIS is the story of a man 
who was born on a farm. 
And when he grew up and could 
have become a rich banker, he 
went back to a farm. Other things 
were more important and interest¬ 
ing to him than making money. 
Guess what they were. Birds, for 

WhatKefit one thing; squirrels, 
John'Bur- rabbits, wild bees; 
roughs Busy suns hine and storm; 

mountains, woods and water; 
rocks, and oh—all out-of-doors, 
and being alive and well, and un¬ 


troubled, and having time to think 
beautiful thoughts and to write 
them down for people to read. 

When Mr. Burroughs Was a Little Boy 

Perhaps this isn’t so strange, 
after all. In Roxbury, New York, 
some one was sure to be born who 
j n t j ie would feel like that. 

Romantic It lay/west of the wild, 

Catskills romantic Catskill 

Mountains, where Rip Van Win¬ 

kle had his strange adventure. 
What a boyhood his was ! One of 


469 



































































:: 


PICTURED KNOWLEDGE 


8 


those dear, barefooted, “little brown 
hands” boys. 

‘He drove home the coivs from the 
pasture, 

Up through the long, shady lane. 
He fished the mountain brooks. 


books as he had real 
things. At twenty 
he read Emerson’s 
essay on Nature, and 




A Man with a Beautiful Soul 

“Other things were more important and interesting to him than mak¬ 
ing money . . . sunshine and storm; mountains, woods, and water; 

rocks and oh—all out-of-doors, and being alive and well, and untroubled, 
and having time to think beautiful thoughts and to write them down for 
other people to read.” 


swam in their pools in summer, and 
skated on them in winter. He coast¬ 
ed on the snow-clad hills, and fought 
merry, snowball battles. He knew 
the fox’s dens, the blue-bird’s nest, 
the song of the brown thrush. He 
Nutting and the squirrels went 

nutting in the same deep 
glens. He and the robins 
| ate from the same scarlet feast of 
| wood strawberries, and the wild bees 
| shared their stores of sumac honey 
| with him. 

1 The Book of Nature and the Books at 

School 

He went to the village school and 
| academy, but he had not so many 


with the 
Squirrels 


learned to see the 
earth and sky with 
the eye and mind 

and heart of a poet. At twenty- 
three, and that was in i860, he wrote 
an essay that was printed in the At¬ 
lantic Monthly. 

Then he had to do many things to 
make a living. He taught school, 
worked on newspapers, and was a 
government clerk in Washington. 
He was trusted so, and knew so much 
about banking that he was made 
bank examiner and receiver of a 
failed bank. If he had opened a 
bank himself, many people would 
have hurried to put their money in 


r 


s. 


470 













































































































JOHN BURROUGHS, PROPHET OF NATURE, 

| it. But, you see, he cared more “Birds and Poets,” and “Wintei 
I about a lovely Nature book that he Sunshine.” And his books got him 

a nickname: “John o’Birds.” 


i had written—“Wake Robin, 


Yale University conferred the honorary degree of Doctor of 
Letters upon John Burroughs in 1910. Here we see him in his 
Doctor’s robe, just after receiving the degree. 


The Beautiful “Land of 
Esopus” 

Having bought some 
| half wild land at Esopus, 
| New York, between the 
| Hudson and the Catskills, 
| he planted a fertile field 
| with celery and a rough 
| hillside with grape vines. 
| These would make enough 
| for his family to live on, 

1 Harvesting and g ive hlm 

| the leisure for 

| Scenery writing. “I 

| planted myself with my 

| vines,” he said, “and left 

| room for the birds and 

| squirrels.” But it was 

| from the scenery that he 

| got his richest harvest. 

| The rocky gorge, the for- 

| ests, the ruined mill and 

| rustic bridge, the views of 

| mountains and river, and 

| all the wild creatures have 

| inspired a dozen books 

1 with such dear titles as 


John Burroughs in His 
Woods 


He lives in a gray and 
brown stone and shingle 
house that looks, inside 
and out, like a nest. His 
study room, called “Slab- 
sides,” is a single square 
room, faced with mill 
slabs, bowered in vines, 
like the trunk of an old 

Where All tree - Birds 

Nature is and bees and 

at Home wasps and 

butterflies go in and out 
of the open windows. The 
squirrels come to the sills 
for grain and nuts. There 
the nature writer watches 
spring come up through 
the woods and the snow 
storm draw its veil over 
river and mountain. He 

A “Reporter of WriteS of n0th - 

“All Out ing but what 

Doors he sees and 

thinks and feels, and in 

homely, rugged words. 

He is not a great natural- 



:: 


47i 








iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiw $$ 


ist, but he is a very fine poetic one. 
He calls himself the watcher and 
reporter of woods and fields, of 
earth and sky. We know that he 
tells us only what is true and beauti¬ 


ful, and he tells it in such a way as j 
to make us love all out-of-doors with | 
him. 

Aren’t you glad John o’Birds j 
had no time to get rich? j 


All Things Beautiful 

All things bright and beautiful, 

All creatures great and small, 

All things wise and wonderful, 

The Lord God made them all. 

Each little flower that opens, 

Each little bird that sings, 

He made their glowing colors, 

He made their tiny wings. 

The purple-headed mountain, 

The river, running by, 

The morning and the sunset, 

That lighteth up the sky. 

The tall trees in the greenwood , 

The pleasant summer sun, 

The ripe fruits in the garden, 

He made them every one. 

He gave us eyes to see them, 

And lips that we might tell, 

How great is God Almighty, 

Who hath made all things so well. 

—Cecil F. Alexander 


♦ ♦ 


472 






CLCdi 


Won— 


© Harper & Bros. 

The Boy, the Father of the Man 

It is rarely that we see such a striking resemblance between a boy of twelve and 
the same boy at sixty-eight. It is said that genius is simply boyish enthusiasm 
carried through one’s whole life work—and the life of Edison is a striking example. 


I T’S hard to think of a great 
man as having once been a little 
boy, with a little boy’s naughti¬ 
ness and dearnesses, and a nick¬ 
name, isn’t it? What do you 
thing his mother called the great 
inventor when he was her little 
boy? 

“Sobersides!” 

This is “Little Mr. Sobersides” 

She said he was a serious baby. 
He seldom laughed, because he 


was too busy. He watched every¬ 
thing with big, gray, wondering 
eyes, and he asked her millions of 
The ‘Busy questions that she 

Boy who could not answer. A 

Forgot to sturdy, active little 

Get Hungry r n i • • i r r 

y * fellow, his idea of fun 

was to get so interested in doing 

something that he had to be told 
when he was hungry and sleepy. 
His father had a shingle mill in 
.Milan, Ohio, where he was born 
in 1847, and there was a canal 


SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 


Wizard Edison and His Work 


473 












































































*y 


WIZARD EDISON AND HIS WORK 


and wharves, crowded with grain 
boats and farm wagons. In Port 
Huron, Mich., there was a public 
library. Wanting to know every¬ 
thing in the world, little Sobersides 
thought he would read all the books. 
He soon saw that was too big a job. 
At twelve he was doing a rushing 
business as a train boy. But he 
found time to print a little newspa¬ 
per, to set up a laboratory for ex¬ 
perimenting, in the smoking car, 


railway station in Canada. There 
he experimented on sending more 
than one message at a time, and on 
a “repeater” that would take down 
the dots and dashes. Such a shabby 
T . boy! He spent his money 

Invention J J 

of the on electrical books and 

“Ticker ' instruments. At twenty- 

one in New York, he repaired a 
“ticker” (ask papa what a “ticker 
is) in Wall Street. Inventing an 
improved “ticker,” he got $40,000 


s © Harper & Bros. 

No fond parent ever heard the earliest lispings of his baby with more delight than did Edison the first 1 
j§ words from his phonograph. The picture shows him listening to its first speech after five sleepless dfiys M 
1 and nights perfecting it. M 


| and to save the life of a station 
| agent’s baby. The grateful agent 
| taught him how to send telegrams. 

“How Does It Work?” Said Alva 

“How does it work?” Alva asked. 
“I don’t know,” answered the 
| agent. “You get up your speed to 
| p jn( £- n take messages as fast as 

| “ How the anyone can send them; 
I i" That’s all you need to 

EE Go Round i n 

| know. 

“That’s easy. But I’ve got to know 
| how it goes.” So he worked on an 
| old battery in the cellar until he 
| understood. 

At fifteen he was in charge of a 


for it, and another nickname—“The | 
Boy Wonder of Wall Street.” He | 
also got a factory built by the West- j 
ern Union Telegraph Company, and | 
a big salary to put in all his time | 
inventing. | 

“What’s the Time?” “Time to Work!” | 

"I owe my success,” he once said, j 
“to the fact that I never had a clock | 
rr in my work room.” And i 

now J = 

Work would you believe it? | 

i •• There was not a clock in | 
Wizards the factory! Three hun- | 
dred men worked as he did. Ah, | 
what a workshop! A chemical lab- | 
oratory, a library, a private secre- | 


:: 




474 






^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii PICTURED KNOWLEDGE .... 11111111*: 



tary, a bookkeeper, a patent attorney 
to file papers in Washington,—fly¬ 
ing belts and wheels and lathes all 
run by electric power! There, in old 
clothes, with acid stained hands, and 
blinking like an owl if spoken to, 
“Sobersides” worked. Fifty inven¬ 
tions were going at once. At thirty 
he had a larger factory and had got 
another nickname—“The Wizard of 
Menlo Park.” Ten years later he 
had his enormous plant at Orange, 
New Jersey. Year 
after year he worked 
out his many wonder¬ 
ful electrical inven¬ 
tions. 

What Mr. Edison Said 
About “Genius” 

“O h, y e s,” you 
think, “but Edison 
was a born inventor. 

It was easy 

How to Be f or him.” 
a “Born T r 

Inventor If V O U 

know the 
story of the incandes¬ 
cent lamp you know 
how long he worked, 
how many years and 
dollars he spent to 
give us the 
light that 
we turn on 
by pushing 
the button. 

And people 
laughed at 


him when he said he was going to 
make an incandescent, electric lamp 
in a closed glass bulb. But after a 
while they stopped laughing, and 
thought “the wizard” could do any¬ 
thing. He invented the “talking 
machine,” called the phonograph; 
the megaphone or sound magnifier 
that magnifies a shout on ball fields 
and at railway stations. Then they 
laughed when he said he was going 
to build a big house in a week by 

pouring concrete into 
iron moulds! And he 
did it, as you see from 
the picture. 

It is hard to be 
laughed at, you know. 
But Edison was too 
busy to pay any at¬ 
tention to the people 
who, at first, made 
fun of him. His elec¬ 
tric lamp 
A “ Hally alone 

Boy in j i • 

Old Age made lllm 

rich and 

famous enough for 
one man. But he 
went right on work¬ 
ing as hard as ever; 
ate when he 
was hungry, 
slept when 
tired and was 
as happy as a 
boy at a ball 
game. 



This statue, which you have already seen in Mr. Edison’s library along 
with his dictaphone and a model of his concrete house, is by the Italian 
sculptor, Brodiga, and represents the triumph of Electricity over Gas. 






475 



Locating the South Pole 



In order to become an explorer, Captain Amundsen had to study astronomy. In the picture he 
is using the sextant to measure the length of the arc between two stars. From this he calcu¬ 
lated the position of the sun and his own location on the earth’s surface. The observation is being 
made during a halt in the march. One of his comrades is noting down the reports that he makes 
while the dogs are taking a rest in the harness and seemingly watching proceedings with interest. 









9 DP 


SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 


How “Roald” Wrote His Name 
On Both Ends of the Earth 


Here is Captain Roald Amundsen with four of his crew, on board the From, the ship upon 

which he sailed on his journey to the South Pole. 


OW would you like to live 
in a gold mining town, 
away up on the Arctic Circle, in 
Alaska—a town of low, log 

A Hero Who houses, strung along 
c Drof>t>ed Out the bank of the Yu- 
of the Sky kon River? And then, 

when you were all out skating, on 
a short, dark December day, to 
have a real hero drop from the 
sky? That is what happened at 
Eagle City in 1905. The hero 
was a blue-eyed blond giant over 
six feet tall. He was dressed in 
yellow seal skins, and he drove a 
string of yapping Eskimo dogs. 
Down the frozen flood his dog- 


Hundred 
Arctics! 


“We heard you were lost. 
Where’s your ship? How did you 
get through? From the Macken¬ 
zie River! Seven hundred miles 
over mountains, in the dead of 
arctic winter!” “Haven’t got a 
frost bitten toe, nor lost a good 


team raced from the Canadian 
Rockies that towered to the 
clouds. 

“Captain Roald Amundsen of 
the steamship Gjoa, Christiania, 
The Name on Norway,” he wrote in 
the Register the hotel register. 

Everyone ‘ crowded around him. 

Only Seven Hundred Miles in the 


477 




































































PICTURED 

dog,” the blond giant laughed. 

What a story for boys and girls 
to hear from a modern viking! 
He had done what your school 
histories tell you Sebastian Cabot 
tried to do in 


KNOWLEDGE 

such an undertaking; a good boat, a 
picked company of men and money 
to buy supplies for severakyears. In 
six years Amundsen had the knowl¬ 
edge. But he had money only for a 

sixty-ton boat, 


it-: 


1497, and what 
many trained 
explorers and 
brave whalers 
had tried to do 

Like a Man sinCe * 
Stef fed Out H e 
of History had 

found the 
Northwest Pas¬ 
sage, and taken 
a vessel through 
it, from Hud¬ 
son Bay to the 
mouth of the 
Mackenzie Riv¬ 
er 

It was not 
luck. No diffi¬ 
cult thing has 
ever been done 
in that way. 
At the age of 
four- 
t e en 
the 
Norwe- 


The Discoverers of the Poles 


Brave 
Ambition 
of a Boy 



men. = 


) ) EE 


The fine, soldierly-looking man at the left is Admiral 
Robert E. Peary, the intrepid American explorer who 
discovered the North Pole. Captain Roald Amundsen, 
who discovered the South Pole, is standing at the right. 


Danish 

gian boy went 
to sea to be a 
sailor. At the 
age of twenty- 
five he was 

chosen for his strength, skill, hon¬ 
esty and keen mind, as one of a small 
company of explorers that tried to 
reach the South Pole. On his return 
from the expedition he sought the 
friendship and advice of Dr. Nan¬ 
sen, to learn what he had to do in 
order to become a successful explor¬ 
er of polar regions. 

Years of study were needed for 


and supplies for 

eight 

Buying dogs in 
Greenland, i n 
June, 1903, he 
j c‘ sailed 

In oix 

Years west- 

He “Passed” ward. 

Except that his 
boat was re¬ 
ported “crushed 
in the ice, 
nothing more 
was heard of 
him until he 
anchored the 
Gjoa among the 
whaling fleet at 
Herschell Is¬ 
land. There he 
left it in the ice, 
and made the 
perilous jour¬ 
ney overland, 
with a dog team 
and a whaling 
captain. 

At thirty-five 
Captain Am¬ 
undsen was 
famous. His 
book and lec¬ 
tures would have made him rich. 
But, having another task to do, he 
shut himself up with his books. The 
world had almost forgotten him 
when, in 1910, he headed an explor¬ 
ing party to find the South Pole. 
He steamed away on the famous 
ship Fram that Dr. Nansen had 
taken farthest north. It was in 
October, 1911, when the seal and 


<* 


*.♦ 

♦♦ 


478 








THE DISCOVERER OF THE SOUTH POLE 




seabirds had come to land, in the 
southern spring, that Captain 

Amundsen left his winter quarters, 

The Great for the ei g ht hundred 

Dash for and seventy-five mile 

the Pole march to the pole. He 

had five men, four sledges, fifty-two 
dogs and food for four months. He 
had to cross a wide glacier, climb a 
steep mountain wall and traverse a 
plateau two miles high. It was ten 
degrees below zero, and the polar 
plains were swept by wintry gales. 

“December fourteenth when we 
reached the pole, and a beautiful 
day, bright and cold,” he wrote in 
his diary. “We named the plateau 
King Haakon Land. We raised a 

Planting tent that We Ca hed Pol- 

the Flag heim (Polar Home), 

at the Pole planted and saluted the 
Norwegian flag, and floated the pen¬ 
nant of the Fram —Good old Fram! 
She has gone farthest north and 
south. We returned to camp in 


thirty-nine days, almost fat, and | 
with eleven dogs that turned up | 
their noses at frozen seal meat.” 

A Second Discoverer of the South Pole 1 

Captain Amundsen had captured | 
the last prize of exploration. He j 
had been home several months when j 
he gladly shared the glory with an- | 

Sad Fate other man—a man who | 
of Brave had failed and died, | 

Ca^tam Scott w ] iere he had succeeded | 

and lived. Captain Scott of the | 
English exploration party, had j 
reached the South Pole too, a little j 
later than Amundsen, but had per- | 
ished on the return journey in a bliz- | 
zard. In his records he gave | 
Amundsen the honor of reaching the j 
pole first. Both explorers proved to | 
the world that no deed is as great as | 
the brave man who dares to do it; | 
that honor is higher than honors, and | 
that there is human courage that no | 
fate can daunt. 1 


The South Polar Regions 

The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, 

And southward aye we fled. 

And now there came both mist and snow, 

And it grew wondrous cold: 

And ice, mast-high, came floating by, 

As green as emerald. 

And through the drifts the snowy clifts 
Did send a dismal sheen: 

Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken — 

The ice was all between. 

The ice was here, the ice was there, 

The ice was all around: 

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, 
Like noises in a swound! 

—Samuel Taylor Coleridge 


= 



479 




© Brown Brothers 

"For Herself, She Was as Timid as a Mouse, for Others, as 

Brave as a Lion.” 


O NCE there was a very little 
girl, and that means one who 
was undersized for her age. When 
she spoke she “lithped,” which, 
you know, is about the “thweet- 
eth” thing any little girl can do; 
but it embarrassed her very much. 
She was too bashful to ask for 
enough to eat or to tell her mama 
when her Sunday gloves were 
worn out. She cried herself sick 


over a funny mistake she made in 
pronouncing a word. When she 
grew up and taught school, the 
dear little children scared her. 

But She Was Not Afraid of Battles 

So, what do you suppose she 
did? Run away and live alone? 
No. She went right out on dread¬ 
ful battlefields, and stood behind 
roaring cannon. She cared for 


E 


y 




r-' 


480 




































































^iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiu CLARA BARTON iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiraiiw 


| wounded soldiers. Many a time she 
| had to climb on a trooper’s horse and 
| fly for her life, with bullets patter- 
| ing about her like hail. For fifty 

1 Timid for years she lived amid 
| Herself, Fear- scenes of suffering and 
I less for Others death Y ou see, for her- 

| self she was as timid as a mouse; but 
| for others, as brave as a lion. 


H The Girl Who Was Born on Christmas 

This little girl was Clara Barton, 
| first president of the American Red 
| Cross Society. She was born in Ox- 
| ford, Massachusetts, on Christmas 
| day of 1830. Babies born in that 
I " Boyhood ” c°ld winter were called 
| of Clara snow birds. Her two 

| Barton brothers and sisters were 

| grown up, when she came, so she had 
| no young playmates; but one brother 
| taught her to ride the wild colts on 
| the farm. A horse was one thing of 
| which she was never afraid. She was 
| a ‘‘Tomboy,” too, when no one was 
| looking. She skated with boys, 
| climbed trees and jumped from the 
| haymow. She loved animals and 
J had chickens, turkeys, geese, 
| ducks, dogs, cats and canary birds 
| for pets. She was such a darling of 
| a teacher, and the children loved her 
| so, that she built up a school of six 
| hundred pupils, in Bordentown, New 
| Jersey. Then she went to be a clerk 
| in a patent office at Washington. 
| She read in the newspapers about 


Miss Florence Nightingale nursing | 
the soldiers in the far away Crimean | 
War. | 

An American Florence Nightingale 

When our own Civil War began, | 
in i860, she offered to do field nurs- j 
ing. Soon she was managing hospi- | 
tals and other nurses. Before the | 
end of the war General Butler made | 
her “The Lady in Charge” of the j 
«* The Lady military hospitals. Then, | 
in Charge” by President Lincoln’s j 
order, she searched hospitals, prisons | 
and battle grounds, to find missing j 
soldiers, get those who were living, | 
home again, and mark the graves of | 
the dead. In. 1870 she went abroad | 
and did field work in the Franco- | 
German war, and fed the starving in j 
Paris, after the long seige. j 

In 1881 she organized the Amer- j 
ican Red Cross Society and was | 
elected its first president. For a | 
quarter of a century after that she | 

Organizing went wherever there was | 
the American suffering to relieve—af- | 
Red Cross f- er footle, fire, flood, | 

earthquake and yellow fever. But j 
she never got over being timid, j 
When eighty years old and of | 
world-wide fame, she said: 

“It makes shivers go up and down | 
my spine to address a meeting.” 

Don’t you wish there were more | 
brave little scared girls like dear | 
Clara Barton? 1 


When War Shall Be No More 


Down the dark future, through long generations, 

The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; 

And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, 

I hear once more the voice of Christ say, “Peace!” 

Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals 
The blast of War’s great organ shakes the skies! 

But beautiful as songs of the immortals, 

The holy melodies of love arise. H. W. Longfellow 





9QP 


SOME OF THE 
WORLDS HELPERS 


The Little Girl Who Discovered America 


“I was born in the Middle Ages of ignorance, fear, and 
cruelty. And I have grown up in this modern world of 
freedom, light, and hope.” 


Y ES, I know, Columbus dis¬ 
covered America—the first 
time. But every colony that came 
to our new land found it again, 
and to each one it meant some¬ 
thing different. To the Spanish, 
it meant conquest and gold mines. 
To the French, it meant adventure 
and missionary work in the wil¬ 
derness. To the English, it meant 
new homes in a free land. And 
did you ever think that every for¬ 
eigner who comes to us today dis¬ 
covers America all over again? 


At the immigrant station in Bos¬ 
ton harbor, there is a door with 
these words on it: “Push: to 
Boston.” Some days it swings all 

At the‘Door day long to let in 
Marked newcomers. One day, 
Push nearly four hundred 

years after Columbus, a little 
Russian Jewish girl of eleven, 
pushed that door open. Her dark 
eyes sparkled; her body quiv¬ 
ered with happiness. Her name 
was Mary Antin. 

“Father,” she whispered, “can 


482 




































































MARY ANTIN 


♦> 


| no one throw mud at us? Or spit in 
| our faces? Or soldiers push us back 
| with guns? Or mobs break into our 
| houses to kill and steal and burn?” 

“No, Mary, none of these things 
| will be done to us in America.” 

“And we can go to school without 
| paying—even girls?” 

| “Yes, little one.” 

| “Oh, dear mother, America’s the 
| ‘Promised Land’ of the Hebrews!” 
| And Mary whirled her brothers and 
| sisters in a gay dance, on the boat 
| landing. A policeman on the corner 
| smiled at her. 

| You would have thought America 
| a land of misery and terror, had you 
| been in Mary’s place. The family 
| was wretchedly poor, and went to 
| live in the slums of Boston. And 
| Mary could remember when they 
| had been well-to-do; they were even 
| considered rich by their Russian 
| neighbors. In Polotzk, Russia, 
| where she was born in 1872, the 
| mother had had a fine shop. The 
| father had been educated for a 
| Rabbi, or Jewish priest. Now the 
| scholar turned peddlar, or ran a lit- 
| tie peanut stand on the beach. 
| Sometimes there was not enough to 
| eat, or money for the rent in an old 
| tenement. The only playground was 
| a sidewalk. 

But they were free and unafraid. 
| They did not have to live “within 
| the pale” or Jewish quarter. They 
| were not insulted or threatened. A 
| mob destroyed their home and shop 
| in Russia. Stripped of all their 
| property they had fled to America. 

That Glorious Place, the School 

It was a wonderful September 
| morning when Mary first went to 
| school. Their father led the five 
| children, as though he were taking 
| them to a religious ceremony in the 

*v 


synagogue. The schoolhouse was a | 
palace with gentle princesses for | 
teachers. At eleven, Mary learned to | 

The Palace read - At the end of a | 
and the year she was in the | 

Princess fourth grade. In three | 

years she finished the grammar | 
school, and went to the Boston Latin | 
School. When there was no money, a | 
Russian Jew who kept a tiny grocery | 
in a basement, filled the little scholar’s | 
glass lamp with oil. He let her have | 
writing paper on credit. But he had [ 
no stamps. Sometimes Mary could J 
not mail a letter at once. When she | 
was sixteen she got a good many | 
letters, from important Americans, | 
for she had written a little book, in | 
Yiddish, telling the story of her life, j 
It was translated into English. 

When she read American history, | 
Mary wished she had lived here in | 
Revolutionary days to fight for lib- | 
erty. But there was nothing left to | 
fight for. Her American school- | 
mates told her so. When she grew | 
older she learned that this was not | 
true. The country had changed. In | 
Washington’s time there were no j 
big cities. No one was very rich or | 
poor; Now, there are many new | 
evils to be fought—poverty, disease, j 
ignorance, vice, dishonesty in our | 
public service. And sympathy and | 
brotherhood must be widened to | 
take in all the aliens who come to | 
our shores. | 

At seventeen, Mary married Mr. j 
A. W. Grabau, a professor in Co- | 
lumbia University, and a Gentile. | 
Then she entered Barnard College. | 
Mary's She h a< 3 a little Amer- | 
Promised ican daughter to love, | 

Land anc | man y friends. She | 

lifted her family above poverty, j 
Then she wrote a book that she | 
called “The Promised Land,” her | 
name for the United States. 


♦♦ 


483 



SOP 


SOME OF THE 
WORLD’S HELPERS 


How Love Brought Light 
to Blind Helen Keller 


Miss Keller can enjoy sculpture better than any other form of art. The lines of the 
figures speak to her hands, revealing the thought of the artist, as truly as to our eyes. 
She reads character with her hands, too. She says the only sure way to judge a man is 
by his handclasp because we control our faces, hide our thoughts and check our speech, 
but we cannot change our hands. 


The most dreadful imprison¬ 
ment in the world is to be shut up 
alone, in a dark and silent cell. 
But no prison is as black and 

In Darkness hopeless as blindness, 

and as still as deafness. 

Silence you would not think 

that a tiny girl who was both deaf 
and blind could ever break out of 
such dreary loneliness into our 
world of work and play, would 
you? It is because she did this, 


that Helen Keller’s story is one 
of the most wonderful that ever 
can be told. 

And Once She Could See and Hear! 

When she was born in Tuscum- 
bia, Alabama, in 1880, Helen’s 
bright eyes saw the blue sky, the 
birds, bees and flowers of that 
sunny, southern land. Her baby 
ears heard her mother’s tender 
voice and the songs of the birds. 


484 
































































^iiiHuuiiuiiiuutniuiiinimiiuiiuiujmuuiuiimmumniuiJDmuuuiimnnnmtiiim HELEN KELLER iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 



spelled other words, but Helen did 
not understand what she was trying 
to do. One day when Helen was 
pumping, the teacher put her hand 
in the stream, and then spelled 
w-a-t-e-r. 

All at once she understood. This 
was the sign for “water.” “What is 
this, and this, and this?” She want¬ 
ed to know the signs for everything. 
Oh, how happy she was! She could 

Two World Helpers Together 


She could talk a little when a year 
old. Then scarlet fever made her 
deaf and blind. The only way the 

Then Came P 00r baby could know 
the Dreadful that she was not alone in 

* ever a black and soundless 

world was to cling to her mother. 

Her voice was not gone, but she 
soon forgot what words she knew. 

She nodded her head for “yes.” 

When “cold she shivered. When 
hungry she pretended to 
spread butter on bread. She 
learned that her mother could 
call others by moving her lips. 

Helen moved her lips, too, 
but no one understood her. 

This made her very unhappy 
Sometimes, when her queer 
signs were not understood, she 
cried herself to sleep in her 
mother’s arms. Sometimes 
she kicked and screamed, in 
such terrible fits of anger that 
her parents feared she would 
lose her mind. 

Everything possible was 
done to make her happier. 

She had a jolly little dog. A 
colored child took her hand 
and ran with her to hunt eggs. 

She could gather flowers, 
grind coffee, turn the ice¬ 
cream freezer, string beads, 
pump water and ' feed the 
chickens. Then a new sister 
came. She loved to hold the 
soft, cuddly body, until she 
learned that even the helpless 
baby could call “mother.” At last hardly sleep nights. She wanted to 

Miss Anne Sullivan, a teacher of talk to this dear new friend and 

blind children, came to see if she j oyous ask a thousand ques- 

could teach Helen. She came when Message the __ tions. She had a quick 


Here is blind Helen Keller talking in hand-language 
to Joseph Jefferson, the famous actor, who was known 
all over the world for his impersonation of Rip Van 
Winkle. 


Helen was six, and loved the little 
girl so that she never left her. 

Miss Sullivan gave Helen a doll. 
Into her hand she spelled d-o- 11 , in 
the deaf and dumb alphabet. She 


Signs Brought anc ] ea g er mind. When 

the one window to it—the window 
of touch—was opened, the whole 
glad world poured in. She learned 
to read with the raised let- 




8 


4^5 



8iuiiiiiiiuuiiiuiiia HELEN KELLER IliiiiiiiiiiillilllllliiililiiiiliiM. h® 


| ter books of the blind. She learned 
| to speak, by touching the teacher’s 
| lips and throat. She could not hear 
| her own voice, but she knew others 
| heard. Her dog ran to her when she 
| called “Belle!” Her little sister’s 
| arms went around her neck when she 
| said : “I love you.” 

How Helen Went to College 

When she grew up she went to 
| college. It cost a great deal; all her 
i T7- books had to be printed 

H ringer . . r 

1 “Listening" in raised letters. She 
| to the had to have a special 

| ectures typewriter. Her teacher 

| had to go, too, to repeat questions, 
| and report lectures by talking into 
| her hand. Her parents were not 
| rich people. A wealthy man paid 
| for everything. She took the full 
| course at RadclifTe, the Girl’s Col- 
| lege at Harvard University. Then 
| she was given a lovely home, and 
| money to live on, with her teacher. 

“But,” you think, “she could not 
| really do anything useful.” 

A Beautiful and Useful Life 

Oh, yes, she can. First, she wrote 
| the story of her life, and all about 
| how she felt in the darkness and si- 
| lence; and how her mind and heart 
| bloomed like flowers in sunshine, 
| when she began to learn. She has 
| written essays on the delicate sense 


of touch. By hugging a tree she can j 
feel it sing. She knows her friends j 
by the vibration of their different | 
77 r t footsteps on the floor. 1 

Sing and By laying her hand on a | 

Babies Laugh pi an0 she can feel the | 

rhythm and volume of music. She | 
can read the speech of a few by | 
touching the lips and throat. Any- | 
one who knows the deaf and dumb | 
signs can talk and read into her j 
hand. She is quick at catching a j 
joke and laughs merrily. She loves | 
to feel a child laugh, and her little | 

How Helen dog bark. She speaks of | 
“Hears" colors and sounds as | 

CoJor though she heard them. | 

She writes like a poet, and her | 
mind is as pure as an angel’s. No j 
one has ever told her anything | 
evil. Yet she knows there are j 
sad things in the world that should | 
not be. She learned that much | 
blindness in babies is due to neg- | 
lect. So she writes and talks about [ 
it. She gives the money she earns j 
by writing to help others. And | 
she helps them by showing how | 
beautiful and brave a human soul j 
can be, what difficulties it can over- | 
come; how the most afflicted can be | 
useful and cheerful. | 

Who that is making complaints j 
about the little things of life can | 
think of Helen Keller without feel- | 
ing ashamed? | 


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